


Fools For Adventure

by spirithorse



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25714114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spirithorse/pseuds/spirithorse
Summary: A series of one shots written for Sormik Week 2020.
Relationships: Mikleo/Sorey (Tales of Zestiria)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 40





	1. How to Quit You

**Author's Note:**

> Here's all the one shots from Sormik Week 2020 that I didn't have previous AU's for because, apparently, this was an AU heavy year. Title taken from _Infero_ from the movie Promare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Day 2 for the prompt First Quarter: Challenges. So I asked some friends for help deciding what to write for Sormik Week and zillysqueaks gave me this prompt. It’s kinda a role swap AU, but not? You’ll see.

Mikleo looped an arm over his leg, unable to stop himself from glancing back at the mouth of the cave. The people of Gododdin were openly hostile about their presence, and he could never really relax in the face of that, no matter how brightly Sorey smiled and waved it off as understandable. According to him, they had suffered from the neglect of Pendrago and hellions. Mikleo just thought that they were suspicious of outsiders and might turn on them. After all, the title of Shepherd only carried weight with one of them.

Masedra was the only one who would vouch for him, and he was dying, and quickly if the seraphim’s reaction was anything to go by.

He reached back for one of his daggers, rubbing his fingers over the pommel. They weren’t his favorite, not like Rose, but trying to use his staff in the caves would lead to more trouble than it was worth. That didn’t mean that he didn’t keep reaching back for where it should be propped up against his shoulder.

He found himself reaching back again, sighing and purposefully slumping back against the wall. Sorey said that they were safe here, and Rose was already posted at the entrance. She had said that she was getting away before the nerdiness caught, but Mikleo had caught her gaze and seen her nod. She was on watch, just like he was. The desperation was so thick in Gododdin that you could cut it with a knife, not that Sorey really noticed.

Sorey just saw a suffering people that he wanted to save, not the gaunt faces and the stern looks. Then again, according to Sorey, he had lived all his life on a mountain, surrounded by seraphim. It was not the kind of life that would lend itself to thinking the world untrustworthy, just like Mikleo’s upbringing had led him to believe the opposite.

Then again, growing up on stories his mother had told him about fleeing Camlann and the destruction there would have turned anyone against the inherent good in humanity.

He huffed and propped his chin on his knee, feeling the tension in his back soften when Sorey looked his way.

Well, maybe not all of his faith in humanity was gone.

Mikleo remained perched where he was, tucked back against the cave wall. It was a warm line of rock along his back, probably because of the lava just behind the door.

He peered at the intricately carved door, not able to pick out some of the details from where he was. Sorey and Lailah had been all over the door, and he would have been too if Rose hadn’t pulled him aside to hold a whispered discussion about their _other_ job. If he was honest with himself, he had forgotten about it on top of everything else.

A Squire to a Shepherd, it was like the stories that his mother had told him, and those that were whispered by people late at night as the hellions howled outside. Of course, back then, they hadn’t known what the hellions were. Mikleo wasn’t sure if the knowing was better, but at least there was a way to do something about it.

Mikleo stared at his hand, half expecting to see the silver flames in the palm, but nothing came. The power was probably connected to Sorey, so if Sorey wasn’t using it then he wouldn’t have it. Or, at least that was his experience. Mikleo knew that the not knowing was something that annoyed Rose, almost just as much as the seraphim with their disappearing and reappearing acts, He wasn’t sure how he felt about it, it was tangled up in the awe of an actual Shepherd and the somewhat awkward truth that he had been hired to kill Sorey.

The Scattered Bones always checked their mark’s history before accepting jobs, but it had been impossible for Sorey, because he had come from out of the blue. If anything, the contract had been tentative and pushed on by Rose, no matter how much she tried to deny it. Either way, it had still ended with him sneaking around the middle of a war zone after the Shepherd, looking for his chance to attack.

Mikleo rubbed his thumb over the pommel of his dagger one last time before dropping his hand away. He was tempted to edge closer to look at what everyone was gathered around. By the way Lailah reacted it was important, but they were still hanging around, caught between something that Mikleo understood as Shepherd business, and the fake elixir.

His gaze darted over to the crates that were still tucked away to the side. They hadn’t decided what to do about that, and Mikleo was sure it was the kind of problem that Sorey would agonize over. The elixir was addictive and harmful, but it was the only thing keeping the town alive. Mikleo doubted that they could move the whole town, not with all the hellions roaming around. Leaving them here with the dying Maesdra would be for the best, as long as they could still get supplies.

He flicked his gaze over to Rose. She would have an answer by now, and just be waiting to see what Sorey would do. That or trying to figure out how to get wagons up through the gorge. He couldn’t tell with her back towards him.

Mikleo turned to resettle himself, freezing as Sorey came back over. Mikleo watched him for a moment before scooting over on his rock. There wasn’t much room, he was very aware of that. He knew that he should care, but there was something about Sorey’s presence that urged Mikleo to invite him close.

There were other urges, but Mikleo was pointedly not thinking of those at the moment. There was a time and place for those, although he was sure that Sorey was aware of those too. There was a flicker sometimes in his expression, and the way that Sorey would always seek him out. Sorey was a friendly guy, but this was something different.

He lifted his hand away to give Sorey the space, sucking in a breath when their shoulders brushed against each other. Sorey glanced at him, his gaze lingering for a long enough moment that Mikleo wanted to look at Natalie to be sure that she wasn’t watching. He wasn’t sure that she had forgiven him for the whole attempting to kill Sorey thing. But he held himself still.

Seraphim could probably smell fear.

Sorey settled close to him, not bothering to keep any space between them. Mikleo was helpless against it. He leaned into Sorey, the Shepherd warm against his side. It wasn’t really, but it felt like Sorey was far warmer than the wall. Or that might have been his face.

He ducked his chin, staring at the rock until he was sure that he was in control of his face again, at least for the moment.

It still wasn’t enough time before Sorey was nudging him. Mikleo looked up, his heart speeding up when he realized that Sorey was leaning close to peer at him. He was close enough to kiss, although Mikleo shoved the thought away for the moment. There would be later, when they weren’t sweating in a cavern and when Natalie was a safe difference away.

He shot the seraph a glance anyway, glad that she was giving them distance. That made him feel bolder, leaning a little into Sorey. It was worth it because Sorey mirrored him, the grin on his face impossible not to meet. “You having fun with the door?”

“Oh yeah. It’s at least from the Temperance of Avarost.”

Mikleo rolled his eyes. “You say that about everything.”

“I do not.”

“Most things. Not _every_ ruin is from Avarost.”

“I know, but this one is.”

“How are you sure?” Mikleo propped his chin on his knee again, looking expectantly at Sorey. “Enlighten me.”

Sorey hesitated for a moment, drumming his fingers against the rock. It meant that their hands kept brushing, and Mikleo had to fight to keep from shivering at each touch, but he was not about to pull away. It was worth it for the close look he got of Sorey thinking, the way that Sorey frowned and his nose wrinkled slightly. It was endearing, and it made him wish for so much.

This could have been his if his mother had stayed in Camlann. If Selene had stayed, then maybe he could have lived with Sorey and been able to explore the ruins that Sorey waxed horribly poetical about. They could have had this discussion one hundred times. Maybe they could have been more, but that wasn’t a regret. That was a possibility that was still ahead of them.

Sorey seemed to reach a decision because he tipped his head back toward the door. “The carving. There’s a specific way the human figure is composed compared to the seraphim. It’s more likely from the Temperance of Avarost than any other time.”

“So, there’s overlap.”

“A little.” Sorey held up his fingers, nearly touching. “But not by much. The art style was influenced by other kingdoms and completely switched to a raised relief.” Sorey paused for a moment before leaning in close again. “You could say that, without that knowledge, we would be…sunk.”

Mikleo stared at him for a moment before glancing back up at the door with its sunken relief. He looked back just as Sorey’s grin widened before he groaned.

He reached out and shoved Sorey away, not bothering to catch him as the Shepherd slid off the rock, already laughing at his joke.

Mikleo huffed at him, leaning over to try and glare at him. “I regret not stabbing you in the back.”

“Oh come on, Mikleo, that was great!”

Mikleo narrowed his eyes before sitting up, carefully staring at the opposite wall so Sorey wouldn’t see him laugh. He just managed it, but he couldn’t hold back his smile at the sound of Sorey laughing at his own pun on the cave floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I did not mix up the mothers. It’s on purpose. ;)


	2. How Do I Follow You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is 100% inspired by art from [Fran](https://twitter.com/Toradhart/status/1241003440626716672) and [Skaykey](https://twitter.com/sora_skaykey/status/1240761159004938248) who did this wonderful art , although I didn't write this scene specifically. Written for Sormik Week Day 5 for the prompt Capella: Knowledge. Title from _Into the Unknown_ from Frozen II.

Sorey was stroking a finger down his nose. A slow, steady touch that soothed him, a temptation to deeper sleep.

Mikleo desperately wanted to take it. Between helping Alisha run the kingdom, conspiring with Rose about her proposal, and that voice that haunted him through the day, he wanted desperately to sleep. When he was asleep, he couldn’t hear the call of the water, and he wouldn’t act on the temptation to do something about it as it got stronger. Or so he hoped. If not, then it would truly be a nightmare, far worse than when he had nearly frozen Alisha to death. Possibly as badly as the time nearly flooded Ladylake before. That had been a slow flood but, with how unpredictable his power felt, this might be instantaneous.

He shuddered, feeling the touch hesitate. Mikleo whimpered, reaching up desperately for Sorey’s hand. “No.”

The word might have been too slurred to be understood, but this was Sorey, the boy who had been by his side forever. Mikleo thought he felt a puff of air, a suggestion of a laugh. Then Sorey’s hand was stroking through his hair once, twice before moving back over his nose one more time. Then it was moving away.

Mikleo turned over, reaching for Sorey’s hand. “Don’t stop.”

His fingers passed through air a moment before he tumbled out of bed, the shock of it waking him up fully.

Mikleo laid on the floor, panting for breath as he tried to pull his thoughts back into some kind of order. He was still stuck in his dream, of Sorey gently soothing him to sleep like they had done when they were young and he had still lived in Elysia. There was some part of him that didn’t believe the reality of him on the floor of Ladylake’s castle, alone and without Sorey leaning over the edge of the bed to laugh at him.

To top it all off, that damn voice was back again, calling him away.

Mikleo hissed and pressed his hands to his ears, shooting the windows a glare like that would stop the voice. It continued on, like his hands weren’t pressed tight to his ears. It rattled around in his skull until Mikleo was struggling to his feet and rushing out of the room.

There was no relief in the hallway, but he could at least breathe. He was only haunted by the voice there, not but his dreams. It wasn’t really helpful, but at least he wasn’t lingering over the impossible anymore.

Mikleo leaned back against the wall, trying to gather himself together. He dropped his hands away so he could press his fingers against the wall. They slipped and slid in what Mikleo was afraid was water until he realized that it was his own sweat. That was a relief, it meant that he still had control.

He pressed back against the wall, using it to hold him up and he breathed deeply. Thankfully, no one was awake at this hour. Alisha and Rose would be curled together in bed, and the guards would be on the lower floors. There was no reason to worry about the queen, not when her half-brother had his magic. Everyone knew about it, everyone in Ladylake had suffered because of it. But they still cheered him on.

 _“Once upon a time, there was a magical forest and, in that forest, there were magical people_.”

Mikleo swallowed hard, taking a few more deep breaths before the closeness of the hallway was too much. He needed air without the walls pressing in around him.

He shoved himself away from the wall, stumbling down the hall. He kept one hand against the wall, ignoring the rough touch of the stone and the occasional portrait frame. Any scrape he got he could heal; he knew that now. Mikleo pointedly ignored the voice in his head that whispered that it wasn’t enough.

He knew that too, but he was used to that voice and its whispers.

_“The magical people lived in harmony with the Earthpulse and the Great Lords that shared the forest and mountain with them. In return, the people worshiped them and welcomed them in everything that they did. And there was peace.”_

Mikleo fumbled with the handles of the door to the balcony, pulling them open as the voice came back. It sang sweetly in his ears, urging him onward. It didn’t feel like the fear from last year, but he could feel his magic surging with it, and that frightened him.

He had promised Alisha that he had things under control. He had sworn to Rose that he would never endanger them. He had meant it; he had worked on it until he was sure. And then all of this had happened.

Mikleo stumbled to the railing, leaning heavily against it as he took deep, gulping breaths of the night air. That didn’t chase the voice away, Mikleo listening as it trailed off into the distance, off toward the north, off towards the place that he still thought of as home.

_“Once upon a time, there was a priestess, a prince, and his consort, from the mountains and from the lake. In the midst of diplomatic talks between their kingdoms, they fell in love. From their love, came a child.”_

The voice trilled again, Mikleo groaning and dropping his head against the stone of the balcony. His fingers twitched against it, trying to ignore the sound of the voice as it came calling again.

_“Once upon a time there was a woman, and a general; from the mountains and from the lake. In the midst of diplomatic talks between their kingdoms, they fell in love. From their love, came a child._

_“And then, the peace ended.”_

Mikleo choked back a sob as his head pounded from the voice. It was still reaching out, cajoling, calling him home. But there was nothing left there. He had seen it all happen, the disaster that had closed off the mountains and utterly destroyed Camlann. He remembered all too well the fire and screaming, both from the humans and the enraged Great Lords.

He remembered a roar, silver wings and sharp teeth snapping at soldiers in blue.

Most of all, he remembered Sorey running away into the flames, desperate to find his mother.

He remembered the waiting, of holding onto his mother until his father and Lady Cateline came running over to find them. He remembered being smothered between the three of them. He remembered fighting them as they tried to put him into the back of the wagon, of his mother telling him that they were going to safety. He remembered shouting for his uncle and Sorey for miles until his voice gave out.

He remembered his father, once a prince, now a king through horror and tragedy, sitting by him at their camp and speaking to him like he was an adult, not the frightened and confused ten-year-old he had been.

Something had gone wrong at the peace talks. Lieutenant Maltran had said that it had been the Elysians that had attacked first, some sort of malcontent who hated the treaty. That the guards had responded in kind, trying to fight them back. That the king, his grandfather, had been cornered and killed before General Heldalf could reach him. That the general had been killed too, trying to protect the Elysians that had ran to the temple to pray for protection. The temple was gone too, engulfed in flame. There had been more, but Mikleo remembered those in bits and pieces, more from the history he had learned once he had reached Ladylake.

The one thing that had stuck with him was the news that his Uncle Michael was dead, General Heldalf and Aunt Selene were dead, the mountain itself was sealed off from them forever. He remembered asking about Sorey, and his father hadn’t said anything, but the silence was enough.

Sorey had gone after Michael, right into the temple engulfed in flame, and no one else had come out. And his father and the rest of Elysia had tried to save who they could before Maotelus and the Great Lords had closed off Elysia, trapping people from both kingdoms behind the veil of fog. But, even before that, they had known.

_“Once upon a time there were two boys who loved each other. Then one died.”_

The voice come back, loud and almost taunting. Mikleo gritted his teeth, trying to ignore it even as it drifted even more loudly into his ear. And even more was the second voice that followed the haunting melody.

“Mikleo.”

Mikleo fought against it for a moment more before whirling around and lashing out. “No!”

He didn’t make a conscious choice to use his power, Mikleo watching as water arced out before freezing in his rage. He expected it to fly through the air and end up with ice shards in the stone, or maybe crashing through the glass. If that happened, then he would have to explain the voice to Alisha and Rose, and admit that he had been hiding something from them.

But it didn’t happen.

Instead, the ice curled around something, forming itself into an image even as Mikleo watched. The hand that he still had flung out in front of him shook and then dropped away as the last shards of ice flaked away, leaving a perfect statue of a young man about his age.

For the space of a heartbeat, Mikleo thought that he had frozen a guard because it looked so like Alisha when she had frozen because of him.

He swallowed hard, stepping forward to tentatively brush his fingers over the hand that was reaching for him. Mikleo almost expected the ice to melt away, or to feel something from within. Instead, he just felt the texture of the ice and heard the whisper again.

“Mikleo.”

He stepped closer, staring into the young man’s face.

It wasn’t one that he recognized from the guards or nobles that he had been introduced to, but there was something familiar about it. It was in the tilt of his head and the soft smile, something that was achingly familiar. It was all there, but beyond Mikleo’s reach.

He found himself sliding his hand up to cup the man’s cheek, cradling it there like his touch could bring warmth to the ice.

His concentration was broken by the voice, Mikleo snarling and pulling his hand away. He turned in the direction of the sound, storming over to the edge of the balcony to lean over it and shout into the quiet night. “What do you _want_?!”

There was a blessed moment of silence, Mikleo breathing heavily as he listened. Some part of him expected to hear the voice again, echoing from the mountains and over the lake. Instead, he could just hear the lapping of the water.

Then it came, softly like the person was standing right behind him, whispering in his ear as hands ran down to rest on his hips.

“Mikleo.”

Mikleo shuddered, gripping the stone. He wanted to turn around, but he was afraid that he would just see the statue behind him.

He found himself leaning out, Mikleo feeling his heart pounding as he waited for something else, but there was nothing. The night and the distant mountains were quiet. Even the voice had left him alone.

Mikleo slumped against the railing, giving the lake shore one last look before letting his head drop into his arms again.

He was going crazy, that had to be the only explanation for it. Stress and worry were kicking his imagination into overdrive and digging up things that Mikleo had kept carefully buried for seventeen years.

He took a deep breath, intending to let it out just as slowly before going back to bed and trying to sleep. Instead, he froze, his breath coming out in a mist around him as he heard the words whispered in his ear.

“Luzrov Rulay.”

Mikleo jerked upright, staring down at the lake shore.

Only one person had ever called him that, because only one person had joined him in making up the names and titles that the priests and priestesses of old had been called. Only one person would know what he had called himself, puffed up in his ten-year-old pride.

“Sorey?”

He hadn’t meant to speak out loud in the fear that he wouldn’t hear the next whisper. Silence descended, Mikleo only able to hear the sound of his own ragged breathing.

There was a flicker of something on the lake shore, something silver.

Mikleo was moving before he had time to think about what he was doing. Ice was sliding down from the balcony as he vaulted over the railing. It stung when he put his bare feet on it, but Mikleo ignored the sensation. His gaze was fixed on the flickering silver thing.

He slid down the ice, barely waiting until he had gotten to the bottom before jumping off his slide. He landed oddly and stumbled, but he scrambled to his feet, barely aware that the voice had come back, singing its soft melody to him.

Mikleo ran on, approaching the silver fire on shore. It danced in front of him, impossibly cool. Mikleo reached out, almost curious about how it would react if he touched it.

He didn’t get the chance before the silver flame twisted and moved, swirling up to almost his height before shaping itself into human form.

The man was facing the lake, Mikleo holding still the longer the man remained facing away from him. He didn’t know what would happen if he moved. He didn’t want it to go away, not before finding out what was happening.

_“Once upon a time there were two boys who loved each other, but fate was against them. When their world fell apart, one escaped and the other died.”_

“Sorey?” His voice broke over the name, the harsh whisper enough to get the man to turn.

There was no color in him beyond the silver, but Mikleo would know that smile anywhere because it was _his_. It was the one that Sorey only used for him.

Sorey looked at him for a long moment before reaching out to brush his fingers over Mikleo’s cheek. Mikleo leaned into it, not caring that he might have run the risk of getting burned. It was worth it.

The fire didn’t burn, it just made his cheek tingle the way his fingers did before he called on his magic. One touch sent his whole body tingling too, although it could be because he was shaking.

“Sorey.”

The repetition on Sorey’s name didn’t elicit any response. Mikleo reached up to clasp Sorey’s hand to his face instead, holding him close even as the silver flame flickered. He glanced over Sorey in alarm, clutching him tighter. “No, not yet.”

Sorey’s mouth moved like he was speaking, but Mikleo couldn’t hear it over the rising crescendo of the voice. It was calling him onward, back towards the mountains and Elysia. Mikleo knew that it was impossible, but he couldn’t disobey the voice or the gentle tug of Sorey on his arm.

Mikleo stumbled after Sorey, trying to keep pace as Sorey stepped onto the lake. The fire that made him up didn’t waver even with the contact with the water. Mikleo only got to the shore before Sorey’s hold loosened.

Panic filled him, Mikleo reaching out desperately even as Sorey kept backing over the lake. Sorey’s mouth was moving like he was speaking, but Mikleo couldn’t hear him over the sound of the voice singing in his ear. But both were doing the same thing, they were both leading him home.

“Sorey!” He made one last desperate grab, his fingers missing even as his magic _reached_.

Water danced at the tips of his fingers before flowing away, freezing in the distance between them despite the silver flames. The ice wavered there for a moment before the flames flared.

Mikleo jerked his arm away, shielding his eyes against the bright flash of light. It didn’t seem to help, because he could feel the tingle of magic all up and down his body, even making his hair prickle. It was stronger than anything that he had felt, in Elysia or with anything he had managed to do, and that included practically flooding Ladylake.

The light dimmed, Mikleo cautiously peeking over his arm.

Sorey was gone, as was the silver flame. In its place was thousands of tiny crystals, bits of ice floating around him.

Mikleo pivoted on his heel, his eyes widening as he saw the crystals clouding the air all the way back as far as he could see. They even floated above the castle, blocking out most of the night sky. Mikleo couldn’t see too far back into Ladylake proper, but his gut told him that they would be there too.

He swallowed and turned back, cupping his hands under the nearest crystal as it bobbed gently in place. There was something on the inside, Mikleo having to stare for a long moment before he recognized Amenoch’s symbol.

He sucked in a quick breath, reaching out with shaking fingers to trace the curve of the bow before dropping them away. Mikleo turned to look at the others, picking out other familiar symbols.

The eight outstretched wings of Hyanoa.

The inverted and flaming hammer of Musiphe.

The curved horns and squat creature of Eumacia.

_“Once upon a time, there were four great spirits of the elements, and they lived in harmony with the people. Until they were sealed away.”_

Mikleo swallowed, his fingers dragging over the closest crystal bearing the mark of Muisphe only to jerked his hand back when they all clattered to the ground with the sound of shattered glass.

He curled in on himself, breathing heavily as the onslaught slowed and then stopped. Even then, he took a moment to lift his head up, staring at the ice on the ground before looking back to the north. Mikleo felt his heart start to pound wildly as he saw a column of light flare up in the distant mountains, bright and silver before it seemed to expand and flash outward.

The tingling came back, Mikleo stumbling back in the face of it even as he stared at the mountains and it's silver beacon in horror. He didn’t know exactly what had happened, but he didn’t feel good about it.

Mikleo remained on the lake shore for a moment longer before turning on his heel and running back towards the castle, back towards his Alisha and Rose as the earth began to rumble threateningly under his feet.


	3. Come My Darling, Homeward Bound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was requested that I do Sorey and Mikleo’s meeting in this AU, so I decided to go for it…which is literally the most plotting I have done for this AU. And I have also realized that I am not good at Disney cheer so…sorry about that. Title take from the song _All is Found_ from Frozen II.
> 
>  **Warnings for this chapter alone:** character death, depictions of drowning.

Mikleo sneezed in the wake of the snow that had drifted down around him when his power flared. He shook his head, batting at the tails on his coat as it swirled around him. He hadn’t known what he was doing then, there had just been the voice and the shadows of the past he had seen through his ice, and it had all made sense.

He was made to be here, in this temple, in this place. Better still, he had used his power with no fear or hesitation, like he had been able to do once. And it had harmed nothing.

Mikleo turned to look at the room. Despite it being the inner room of a temple and being marked by Amenoch’s symbol, it was very plain. The frost on the walls hid the old scars from the fire that had consumed it that horrible day Elysia had been sealed off.

Now that he was looking at it again, it looked unfinished, which didn't make sense. It was what they had been celebrating. If they had gone through all the hard work of putting locks that would respond to those with the gifts of the Great Lords, then certainly someone should have decorated it. Mikleo had seem tombs with more decoration.

He walked over to the wall, pressing his fingers against it. It didn’t yield, not like the door to this room had.

He rubbed the snow between his fingers looking back at the door.

It was shut, but he wasn’t surprised. He had been throwing his power around, something was bound to have triggered the door again, shutting him off from Rose and Alisha.

Mikleo reached up to pat his shoulder, sighing at the loss of weight there. He had given the small dragon to Alisha to keep it safe.

He massaged his shoulder, giving the door a longing look. If it hadn’t opened now, then it wasn’t going to. But perhaps that was the purpose. They hadn’t found the inner sanctum of the temple, but it might make sense that this was a room for the priests to prepare themselves. After all, there had been a pool.

Mikleo turned back to it, his jaw dropping when he saw that it had frozen over, and the wall on the other side was open.

He walked to the edge of the frozen pool, staring at the now open wall. Through it he could see a larger room, one with a soaring ceiling. He could see the glint of water on the other side, unfrozen.

He patted the front of his coat, glancing between the next room and the door before pushing a hand through his sandy brown hair.

There would be no getting Rose and Alisha in through the door he had gone through, and he doubted that he would be able to open the others, they were all marked with the symbol of another Great Lord. But they had Dezel with them, and there was bound to be a room dedicated to Hyanoa that he would be able to open. If not, there was always Lailah, Edna, or Zaveid. And maybe he would be able to find a way to bring them in through the inner sanctum. In any case, they could keep searching and try and figure out why Elysia had been closed off. The answer to that mystery had to be somewhere in the temple.

Mikleo took a deep breath and stepped onto the ice, feeling his boot slip slightly before it caught and held. He reached up for his shoulder again, missing the little silver dragon. It was surprising how used he had gotten to its presence, how calming it was.

He shook his head at his own silliness and crossed the ice. It creaked a bit under his weight but held easily, Mikleo barely paying attention to it as he focused on the inner sanctum.

The design of the outer chamber kept him from seeing all but a small section of the inner sanctum, just the steady rock of the water as it came up from an underground stream. He could reach out and follow it, trace it out until he found the source, but that could be done later.

He stepped into the room, tipping his head to look at the great vaulted ceiling. It was definitely in the Ladylake style of a shrinechurch rather than the great stone temples that the Elysians had built like they had grown out of the earth itself. That made sense, considering the temple had been a gift, a final show of peace for the alliance between Ladylake and Elysia. Mikleo had heard his parents talk about it in Ladylake with wistful hope, about how it would have brought the two together, about how it would have encouraged trade and travel.

And then the world had burned.

Mikleo shuddered and clutched at his elbows. He lowered his gaze, taking in the plain room. It was strange again, how the whole structure seemed to be unfinished. Maybe it had just been rushed, but he would have thought the inner sanctum would have been prioritized. That’s where they would have gathered to dedicate the temple, and sign the treaty.

He stared at the center, the only hint of decoration in the room.

There were four circles, water being the outermost, followed by a circle of pinwheels, then one that looked to be made of coals, Mikleo seeing a faint haze where they were still burning. The final circle was a bank of stone, surrounding the largest piece of iris gem he had ever seen. It had been roughly polished, just enough that the low fire set off a rainbow in it.

As he approached, the stone seemed to be shot through with silver, which pulsed all the brighter the closer he got, all save for one section in a rusty red.

Mikleo carefully circled the center, glancing away every once and a while to try to find some hint of anything. But there was nothing. It was beautiful emptiness that made the hair on the back of his neck rise.

He patted it down, glancing towards the next outer door.

It was open, and there were bones.

Mikleo froze, staring at the skeleton.

He had never thought that there would be people in the temple, although he knew that there should have been. After all, there had been a celebration before the fire started, someone had to have been getting ready. If they had been in the temple at all that day they would have been a priest or a Shepherd, but the strange thing was that everything around them was burned, but the bones were clean.

Mikleo edged closer, giving the bones space as he stared into the room. The door on the other side had Musiphe’s sign.

He swallowed and knelt by the body, taking in the open jaw and the outflung arm. Those were both interesting, but not as much as the deep cuts on the ribs. It looked like someone had hacked into the person’s body. It was violence that he would not have expected for a celebration, unless this wasn’t a priest.

He picked at a portion of the burnt floor, carefully peeling up a piece of what looked like cloth, but it was too blackened to tell what it had been. If he had to push to make a guess, it would be a robe, which lent itself to his hypothesis that he was looking at a priest or a Shepherd.

Mikleo swallowed and looked up at the man’s face, trying to parse out something beyond a dead person. But there was practically nothing, no clothes, just bones and a faint glint of something around his collarbones.

He scooted up to peer at what it was, but it was too hard to see among the jumble. Mikleo muttered a prayer of forgiveness under his breath before reaching in to pick it out.

It came out as one piece, which was surprising considering the amount of burn around the skeleton. Then again, the skeleton was pristine and unburnt, which might account for some of it. Mikleo gave the bones one last glance before looking down at what was in his hand.

It was an amulet, one that the priests and Shepherds wore. The fact that the pendent at the end was iris gem and not flamestone meant that this had been the priest closest to Musiphe, their Shepherd. Mikleo pressed his thumb over the carving, frowning at what he felt.

Musiphe’s symbol was closer than this one, shaped like a hammer in a T-shape. This one had more gaps, most of the carving concentrated at the center than the top.

Mikleo lifted it and tilted it until the shine from the gem didn’t hide the carving, which was of a bow and a fish, which was Amenoch’s symbol.

He tapped his thumb against the carving a few more times before looking down at the bones. A priest of Amenoch coming in through the Musiphe outer room. Or leaving.

He huffed and glanced along the outflung arm, tracing it across the floor and to another body in a jumbled sprawl from where it fell.

Mikleo sucked in a quick breath, clutching the amulet to himself. It shouldn’t have been strange considering the fire and what the people of Camlann had told him, but it struck him as so, something in his gut rumbling a warning. Two bodies so close together, one with marks of a sword, and the other curled right below the splatter of rust on the large chunk of iris gem, the part that didn’t shine in the light.

It had to be blood.

Mikleo shuddered, pressing the amulet against his heart like it would protect him from the death that had happened seventeen years ago. He huffed at his silliness; the dead couldn’t hurt him.

He took a few deep breaths, glancing over the other skeleton. It looked like it had fallen, curled around one arm that ended abruptly. Mikleo glanced around, spotting the cut off hand a short distance away, fingers fallen away from a large, black-bladed sword.

It looked like something that could have caused the cuts in the bone on the first skeleton, but the two of them were across the room from each other, and there was only one sword. Unless there was a third person who lived, these two couldn’t have killed each other.

Mikleo hummed and got to his feet, his fear disappearing in the face of the mystery.

When his parents had told him that everyone in the temple had died, he had assumed that it had been because of the fire that had raged through it, but no one showed signs of being burnt to death, just stabbed. Mikleo had yet to meet a fire that had any skills with the sword, nor did he think that Musiphe would use a human weapon.

He inched closer, peering at the bones. There were more clothes on this one, and a leather strap that ran from shoulder to hip. Mikleo frowned and curled around until he found the bag, freezing at the familiar design on the front.

He remembered it, he had helped his mother with the beading, picking out the bag, the design and handing Muse every bead and watching as she put it together. All for his uncle’s birthday.

“Uncle Michael!” He shoved the amulet into his boot, cursing himself for not magicking himself some pockets. Mikleo sprinted over, only to slide on his knees when he got close. He reached out to touch the shoulder blade, shrinking back at the sharp round of bone instead of the give of flesh. It was too different than what he remembered that he couldn’t help by sit down on the stone floor.

He was very aware of his breathing echoing loudly in the chamber, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He never thought that he would see Michael again, he was slotted among the dead just like most of the others he had known. Now he was getting to see his uncle again, in a way, and he didn’t know what to do about it.

His fingers twitched above Michael’s shoulder before he dropped his hand back in his lap. He pressed against where the amulet was in the boot.

Michael and Sorey had gone back into the temple, and there were two dead bodies, one definitely not the body of a ten-year-old.

He felt his throat close up Mikleo staring down at his shaking hands.

Sorey wasn’t here.

They had come all the way to Elysia, gotten themselves trapped behind whatever barrier kept it closed, and he still hadn’t seen Sorey. There was every chance he was somewhere in the temple, and it would take days of searching. And he would do it.

He curled his fingers into a fist, looking down at the bag. He could search the whole temple, and there would probably be something to help solve the reason why they were sealed off on the mountain, but his uncle had always kept a journal. If he was lucky, it would be on him and maybe he could get a clue instead of wandering blindly.

Mikleo picked up the bag, running his fingers over the beading before reaching in. His fingers felt the various bits and pieces his uncle always carried with him, medicines, more pencils, a heavy book for pressing plants. Finally, he brushed across a slim, leather bound book, this one softer than the pressing book. He sucked in a quick breath before pulling it out and staring at it.

It was his uncle’s journal, the pages slightly yellowed by time and the cheapness of the paper. Mikleo ran his fingers along the edge of it before opening it up, staring at the blank pages in back before flipping forward until he found the entries that looked promising.

* * *

_General Heldalf has returned to Elysia to finish overseeing the completion of the temple. Muse says it’s just to have everything be official and set up for when the king, Prince Roland and Princess Cateline return, but I don’t see what a general has to do with temple building, but I can’t question it, not when Prince Roland and Ladylake have been so generous. Just having the masons up here to pass on their knowledge has been helpful, even if the temple they built seems out of place. We’re grateful in any case, or it wouldn’t be right to be ungrateful. The Great Lords are happy enough and Maotelus enjoys bothering the workers to learn more._

_Heldalf brought his daughter, the one from his wife in Ladylake. I don’t know if anyone told Selene, and I’m afraid of what will happen. It was news to all of us that General Heldalf was married, and what that daughter will say when they know he has a son up here._

_I’ve met the girl, and she seems sullen and withdrawn. It could be because she doesn’t want to be up here, or she knows. Either way, she keeps to herself, so I don’t think I will see her much at all._

\---

_The river is raging with Amenoch, and no one can discover why. Some of the priests have gone to the temples to talk them down, but Amenoch doesn’t answer. If Teresa was here, she would be able to do it, but she left on a pilgrimage to the source of the river for the yearly cleansing. We’ve agreed to send a runner to find her and see what she can do._

_Melchior has taken to spending most of his time with the masons and has started speaking more about his home in Ladylake before he came here. The master mason has said that this unsettles him, not because Melchior is the closest to Eumacia, but because of what he had heard._

_Apparently, there was a bit of trouble back in his father’s day, something about the high priest (I believe that was the title I was told, but I could be wrong) and some suspicion about the death of his child and wife. The master mason implied that it was murder and not an accident, and that Melchior was the man’s right hand._

_It is disturbing news, but none of the others seem worried by it and Eumacia would not have allowed him to be her Shepherd if he was not trustworthy. The Great Lords are rarely wrong, and rarely move the way we want them. I just thank all of them that Maotelus is so tractable and more human, perhaps because he makes more of an effort at it._

\---

_Teresa was found today in an old way house towards the top of the mountain, by the temple to Zenrus. I was called to confirm and study the situation. Perhaps they thought my close friendship with Maotelus meant that I might be able to calm Amenoch before they flood Camlann, but I am not sure of that. The Great Lords are already testy when they lose one of their Shepherds, and this is clearly not an ordinary death._

_Teresa was found bound and stabbed multiple times before being shoved into a corner of the house. She was only discovered because someone was using the house during their travels and stumbled upon her._

_A runner will take back the news, but perhaps leave off the news of the murder. We wouldn’t want the general deciding that it isn’t safe for the prince and the king. We need his good will, especially with his father against us. The general doesn’t need to know either, we don’t need spies sending back word of our troubles._

_Usually, this would be handled easily, but no one has dared risk the threat of a Great Lord’s ire, at least until now._

_We have collected her belongings to return to her family. Her brother will be devastated._

_Hopefully, Amenoch will calm now that we have found his Shepherd._

_I just wonder why they didn’t take her as a seraph, but instead left her body._

\---

_It has been two weeks since Teresa’s death and I have had to take direct action. Muse will kill me for it, but I took Mikleo to the head of the river to present him to Amenoch. He was not dedicated, but it was more of an open promise. Mikleo knew what he was doing, we had plenty of time to talk about it as we traveled. When he comes of age, he will start his training._

_That will be the right time to speak to my sister, when Mikleo is a bit surer and can speak for himself. If he doesn’t desire it, then there will be plenty of time to find another, but he is blessed with Amenoch’s gifts, he will likely be drawn to it. But Muse wants him to go to Ladylake with the prince and princess to learn from them. I would agree to the scheme, save for the fact that I know the king in Ladylake hates us for our ways and magic and I fear that the prince will try to keep Mikleo as an heir, and we will never see him again._

\---

_Heldalf’s daughter, Symmone, is starting to spend more time with Melchior. I wish I could wave it off, but something about it all seems strange. Helfalf is courting Sorey too, probably to bring him back to Ladylake too. If that happens, Mikleo will go too._

_I don’t think I have to worry much, Sorey likes it too much here._

_Or maybe, I do._

_Things feel…strange. I don’t know how to explain it without Muse thinking I’m seeing things. But there’s a tension._

\---

_Melchior went into the temple and hasn’t come out. I’ve spoken to him a few times, but he seems content to take up residence. Symmone still stops to speak to him from time to time, but she’s taken to tailing after her father like a lost dog._

_I feel sorry for her_

\---

_I haven’t seen Melchior for days, and the tension is getting worse the closer we get to the arrival of the prince. It must be that, because I cannot imagine what else it would be._

\---

_Maotelus says he feels the tension too._

_He says the ground feels strange._

\---

_Oscar came to talk to me to return an amulet from his sister’s belongings. He said that it couldn’t be hers because it was dedicated and blessed by Eumacia, but I could have sworn that it was the same one that she was wearing when we found her body._

_That couldn’t be right. An amulet blessed like that would have suppressed her power, and would have made it impossible for Amenoch to make her a seraph on her death._

_Strange. After the ceremony, I will look into this further._

\---

_The king, prince and princess are here. It’s much like the last time they were here a year ago. Some of the tension has eased, and even Heldalf is joining in the celebrations. But not his daughter, I haven’t seen Symmone in a long while._

_Maotelus says the ground still feels strange._

\---

_The dedicating ceremony is today and everyone is busy, but I’m on edge. The feeling has just gotten worse._

_Maotelus is drifting around aimlessly, even Sorey and Mikleo’s expeditions to older temples he ignores. If he was a human, I would say he was sick. As a Great Lord…he might be sick. I don’t know. I’ve spoken to Shigure and Oscar, and they say they feel it too, but there’s no real indication of where it comes from._

_Shigure has brought out Stormhowl. That sword has stayed wrapped up and tucked away for as long as he’s been here. If the sword is out, then there will be trouble._

_I think I’ll make a round of the temple before the official ceremony, just to make sure that everything is in place._

* * *

There was nothing after that, just the ragged edge of a ripped page. That in itself wasn’t strange, his uncle had been forever ripping out pages or small pieces of paper to make notes on. Mikleo traced the edge of it while he thought.

He had known that something had gone wrong to anger the Great Lords, why else would they set the temple dedicated to them on fire? But this was something deeper, something more drawn out.

He paused with his fingers still above the page, looking over at the sword. It could be Stormhowl, which meant that the other body might be Shigure, and that confirmed that he was sworn to Musiphe. And yet, he had died with an amulet to Amenoch around his neck, and the Great Lord hadn’t taken him to be a seraph like they always did. Just like what had happened to Teresa.

Mikleo reached down to touch the amulet in his boot. He vaguely remembered Teresa, but he remembered the trip to the river’s source and making the promise to Amenoch. He had meant it then, but then he had been locked out of Elysia.

He flexed his hand. He had made a promise, been locked out and Amenoch hadn’t had a Shepherd. That could be connected to his loss of control a year ago, Amenoch raging and trying to reach out to him. Or maybe that was just the voice.

Mikleo curled his fingers in to touch his palm, swallowing hard. He glanced at the other two doors. He wanted to be able to get in and check them, because something told him that the clues that they were looking for were in those rooms. He would have to go back and hope that he could get through the door that had let him in, but that might not be that hard. He was on the right track now, and the Great Lords might be inclined to help him out, especially after he helped wake them.

He stood up, tapping the journal against his leg. They would need help too, because he wasn’t about to leave his uncle and Shigure in the temple forever. They deserved a proper burial.

Mikleo chewed his lip, glancing around the room. He could take the time to explore more, just to see if there were a few more pieces to slot into place.

And maybe he could find out what happened to Sorey.

He turned, freezing when he saw something move in the shadows of Musiphe’s outer room. It could have been his imagination, because he had been in the doorway of the room and seen nothing. Of course, he hadn’t looked too deep into the shadows.

A shiver ran down his spine, Mikleo twitching at the scrape of something like claws on stone. He clutched at the journal, looking over at where Stormhowl was discarded on the floor. It looked too big for him to lift, and he had trained in staff and halberd with Alisha, not the sword.

He took a cautious step towards the sword, the scraping sound coming back, this time with a growl. It was definitely from the shadows now.

Mikleo took a look, seeing movement. And that was enough to decide him.

He took off at a run for the sword, reaching out for the water in the fourth ring to splash on the floor behind him, quickly freezing it to ice. It was a good enough first defense until he could get something better, or at least an eye on what he was facing.

A roar rattled from behind him, Mikleo forgetting his better judgement to look behind him.

A lion-like creature slipped from the room, swaying on two feet before roaring at him again with splayed claws. The sound was enough to stop him in his tracks, Mikleo staring at the creature.

He had never seen anything like it, it seemed like something out of stories. A hellion, something that stewed in its own malevolence until there was nothing left of the human, but that should have been impossible because of Maotelus. But Maotelus would have been sealed away with the rest.

Or, maybe this one was too far gone. Mikleo didn’t know. His uncle hadn’t told him anything, because it would have been in his training. But he had never thought he would see one, especially wearing Ladylake colors.

The breath caught in his throat, Mikleo staring at the familiar uniform. He had gotten used to it in the days he had been there, meeting with the members of the guard that had been left behind. But this wasn’t the uniform of a guard, there were the tattered braids and epaulettes of a general. And Ladylake had only lost one general in Elysia.

“General Heldalf.”

The hellion snarled, showing its teeth. There didn’t seem to be anything human left about him, Mikleo glancing between the teeth and his claws.

He could feel a scream welling up in the back of his throat, Mikleo working to keep it back. It wouldn’t help, the stone was too thick for the sound to carry, which meant that there was only him. He shot a glance over at the sword before disregarding it. He’d get himself killed trying to use it, but he was not unarmed.

Mikleo settled himself, glaring at the general. The hellion was standing on the edge of where he had made the ice, studying it with more intelligence than Mikleo would have thought. It was something that sent the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He swallowed, feeling his hands shake.

The general just stared at him, seeming to gauge the protective sheet of ice and the distance. For one, heart-stopping moment, Mikleo thought he would jump, but instead he just hummed and patted his tattered coat.

Mikleo tensed, expecting him to be reaching for some kind of weapon, not for the length of string that he pulled out. It wasn’t until the iris gem part of the amulet fell out of his palm that Mikleo understood.

Teresa and Shigure had been found with the opposing Great Lord’s blessed amulet on them, which would negate what blessing they had been given. Michael had believed one murder deliberate, and it was likely that Shigure’s was too, just as it was likely he was looking at the perpetrator of both. After all, everyone knew that General Heldalf had been at the temple, attempting to save people, or that’s what the people from Ladylake said. Mikleo had heard nothing about the general since he had gotten back to Camlann.

Maybe because he hadn’t been saving people at all.

Maybe he had been in the temple, killing Shigure, Michael, and every other priest that was still there.

Maybe he had been the one to start the fire with Shigure’s death. Musiphe would have expected to receive him as a seraph, but the amulet would have made it like he had never been blessed, and he would have been stolen away from them. And Mikleo had the proof to start to convince people. He had the amulet, the journal, and the temple probably held the rest of the bodies, right where Heldalf had let them fall.

He took a step back, glaring at the hellion. “How dare you?”

The question stopped him for a moment Heldalf tipping his head to the side. The confusion made Mikleo brave. “How dare you come here and kill them? How dare you threaten us?”

“Threaten?” The word seemed to come out with great effort, like the general had forgotten how to form them. His mouth twitched for a moment before something like a purr rumbled out of them. “No, you threaten us with your magic and your position.”

“Position?”

“You could destroy Ladylake.”

Mikleo ignored the shiver that ran down his spine. He almost had, but that was not at question here. He hadn’t been the one angering the Great Lords. He shook his head, taking a step back. “No, you would have. The Great Lords are smart, they would have figured out who had done this.”

“By then they would have been ours. You cannot keep them for yourselves.” Heldalf held up the amulet so it swung between his claws. “You pretend to be all knowing, but none of you questioned why Melchior was allowed to live.”

Mikleo sucked in a deep breath, trying to put the facts together as he watched Heldalf pace.

Michael had written about a scandal, something that the people were wary of, a death. Melchior could have been innocent, could have been exiled, could have been living out his days in peace, until the temptation had come back. But something in him pushed to question. “The child.”

Heldalf snarled. “Impractical men.”

Mikleo felt his heard speed up, sure Heldalf heard it racing. Innocent or not, Melchior was the only way that Heldalf could have known about how to disable the priests, how to make sure they were not claimed by their Great Lord, how to make the Great Lords need appeasing.

Heldalf, against all good sense, had brought his daughter.

“W-where is Symmone?”

There was a flicker of something more human in his eyes, Mikleo not sure if it was regret or grief. But then it was gone, Heldalf pacing along the edge of the ice.

It wasn’t the answer that he was looking for, and Heldalf hadn’t seemed to care beyond a point, or maybe he wasn’t capable of it. He had been trapped here for seventeen years, hatred rotting him until he had turned into this.

“One more.”

Mikleo didn’t have time to ask or think of what it meant before Heldalf was springing easily across the ice that he had put between them.

He lashed out with shards of ice, making up for lack of true aim with sheer numbers as he retreated back towards where Stormhowl was on the floor. He could hear Heldalf roaring as each shard hit, Mikleo scrambling for more water. He could flood the inner sanctum, Amenoch wouldn’t let him drown, but Heldalf might.

He sent water whipping towards Heldalf, trying to force him back to get enough room to work, but the hellion kept charging through. He didn’t seem to feel the attacks, or was too far gone to notice.

Mikleo glanced back towards Stormhowl, the hilt tantalizingly close. He wouldn’t have to do much with it, just hold the blade out and brace himself. Heldalf would do the rest.

He turned and lunched for the blade, pushing off his uncle’s skeletal fingers with a whispered apology.

The hilt of the blade felt strange in his hands, and the sword was heavier than it looked. Mikleo gritted his teeth and tried to pull it up, the blade scraping over the floor.

He barely got it raised before he felt something slam into his shoulders, claws pricking into his skin.

Mikleo shouted, reaching back even as he pulled water to freeze the hand. He heard Heldalf snarl, but the claws just curled tighter.

He snarled in return, digging deep into the part of himself he dared not go into, the one place he had reached for when flooding Ladylake.

Mikleo felt the water in the circle respond, rising at his call. Then something was shoved over his head, and he lost the feel of the water, in the pool, around him, and in him. There was nothing, and the shock left him reeling.

Stormhowl fell from his hands to land with a dull clatter on the floor, Michael’s journal following it. Mikleo stared at it as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. He had never felt this way, there had always been something either that he could pull from inside himself or from outside of him, but now he just felt empty. It was only when there was a sharp press of something against his neck, cutting off his air, that Mikleo realized what happened.

Heldalf had an amulet, it must have been blessed by Eumacia.

Mikleo wheezed out a breath, reaching out to claw at the ribbon that held it together. His fingers slid over it and the beads that were strung on it. He managed to get one finger hooked between the ribbon and his neck, and then Heldalf was lifting him like a kitten, carrying him effortlessly towards the alter.

Mikleo twisted in his grip, trying to ignore the burn in his throat from lack of air. If he could land a kick, then he might be able to break free and rip the amulet off of him. He had one to Amenoch in his boot. Mikleo didn’t know what it would do, but he could at least double his protection. If not, then it might cancel the other amulet out if Heldalf managed to get it over his head again.

He clawed at the ribbon around his neck, hooking more fingers into it just as Heldalf bent down. The room swirled in a blur of colors and shapes, Mikleo getting the barest glimpse of the first ring of water when he was shoved facedown into it.

There was a single moment when he thought nothing of it. He had never had trouble with water, never had to even hold his breath in it. It was part of the blessing bestowed on him, except that was gone, and he had no air left in his lungs.

Mikleo tried to hold his breath, his control slipping when Heldalf shoved him deeper in the water. That pushed the last of the air out of him, Mikleo watching the bubbles go with a sense of confused detachment.

None of it seemed real, the claws pressing his back or the water that was rushing in, burning along his throat and lungs. He had gotten home; he had pushed beyond the wards that had locked the temple.

He hadn’t seen Sorey.

Mikleo felt a scream building up, but there was no air, just water and that kept flowing in with every halting, gasping breath he took, but he couldn’t stop because he needed to breathe. Everything burned with that and it was getting hard to think or see. His vision was wavering like the water, closing in on black even as dots swum before his eyes.

He flailed at them for a moment, watching as they danced over his arms, all but two of them. Those two glowed a calm blue, lurking just out of his reach, even when Mikleo stretched out towards them.

They were a half a memory, his mind struggling to come up with where he had seen them before. Maybe it had been a river? Maybe a horse, but they were pleading with him. He _knew_ them, but the connection was gone amid the need for air, desperate and all consuming.

He thrashed slightly, feeling a bloom of pain across the back of his neck before there was a weight on his head forcing him deeper. Mikleo screamed, the sound empty without any air as more water came rushing in. The black rushed in to, promises of rest and without the pain of burning, and yet the blue eyes burned on.

Mikleo twitched, raising his land like he could throw off the iron grip on his shoulders or back of his head. But his hand wouldn’t move further up than his neck, resting on the ribbon there. It felt loose, Mikleo curling his fingers around it and giving a weak tug. He felt it press harder, than the pressure was gone. There was just jubilance as the burning stopped and the blackness closed in.

And then, nothing.

* * *

Alisha dragged her fingers over the stone, feeling its roughness. It looked barely finished, like it had been slotted into place without a thought, which was strange.

She was used to the grand shrinechurch in Ladylake, all of its careful architecture and reverence to it. There was decoration there too, on the pillars, just above where anyone could reach and rub the carvings. This whole thing was more like the corridors in the back, the ones used for utility. These could possibly be used for the same, except that to get to the inner parts of the temple, where everyone would gather, they had to use these corridors.

That wasn’t the only thing that felt off about this.

Alisha remembered everyone talking about it in Ladylake, how excited her father and mother were. Peace and friendship with Elysia had been very important, and not just because of the little brother that she had apparently had but had never seen. She hadn’t been included in many of the talks, she was still too young and her grandfather still hadn’t looked on her and her father kindly. She vaguely remembered the push and pull, talk about trying to get a buffer zone to prevent danger.

Her father had been the one to talk of peace, of wanting to bring the two kingdoms together, of the grandeur of the temple that they were building as a sign of acceptance. He had been disappointed that it had failed so utterly.

He would have been more disappointed with the temple itself, with its unfinished walls and no care taken. It was a facsimile of the Ladylake elegance that he had promised. Alisha was almost glad that he wasn’t around to see it.

She wondered how Mikleo felt about it.

Alisha bit her lip, looking back at the door that Mikleo had gone through. It had shut behind them and wouldn’t open no matter what she, Rose, or Dezel had done. Then again, they didn’t know this place, Mikleo was the one who did and he was far beyond them at the moment.

The little silver dragon on her shoulder chittered nervously, Alisha reaching up to stroke its side. It swayed away for a second before leaning in, bobbing its head.

Alisha smiled at it. “I know, you miss him. But we’re together for now, so maybe you know something? You live here after all.”

The dragon stared back at her and slowly blinked one eye after another. Alisha sighed, not sure what else she was expecting. It might be a dragon, but it didn’t seem to be anything more than the salamander that Lailah kept with her. It was cute though.

She kept up her gentle stroking, looking around. She wished that there was something in her memory or experience that would help. After all, she was the one who had made the rash call to help free the Elysians, because no one else had managed to get as far as they had. And she felt responsible. She was queen of Ladylake, technically their ally, and there were soldiers from Ladylake stuck there too. She couldn’t just leave them.

But she was getting the horrible feeling that she wouldn’t be able to solve this.

Alisha huffed, turning as she heard Rose storming past. “Anything?”

“Not a damn thing.” For a moment, she looked like she was going to kick the nearest door, but she stopped herself. Rose stepped back and stared at the wall, shaking her head. “I can’t understand how they work or how they get in. It’s all of this…magic.”

She flailed around at the word before leaning back until she was partially slumped against the wall. Rose glared at the door. “I guess we’re not meant to get in.”

“Mikleo did.”

“Mikleo has magic.” Rose wiggled her fingers before shaking her head. “And there’s no other door. It’s just these. Us mere mortals won’t be passing.”

“There’s Dezel.”

Rose tipped her head to the side. “Did you get that?”

Dezel paused where he was tracing out the symbols on the door next to the one Mikleo had gone through. “No. I got that he did something with magic. But it was hard to hear.”

Alisha felt a chill run down her spine, turning to look at the man. “What?”

Dezel turned toward her, staring at a point just slightly off to her right. “It’s hard to hear in here. There’s this…humming? Singing?” He tipped his head to the side, looking like he was listening hard before he shook his head. “It’s some kind of voice.”

“And only here?”

“Only in the building.”

Alisha turned to look at Rose, the two of them grinning at each other before they were speaking at the same time. “Mikleo’s voice!”

Rose shoved herself away from the wall, grabbing at Dezel. “What does it sound like?”

Dezel recoiled, pushing as her hands. “I don’t know! A voice. It sounds like a voice.”

“Male? Female? Give me something to work with!”

Dezel seemed to struggle for a bit before he shrugged. “Like a voice. Like the wind.”

Rose took a deep breath like she was going to say something else, but the dragon on Alisha’s shoulder let out a shriek. It pushed off of her shoulder, Alisha feeling the sharp prick of its claws against her shoulder, the pain enough to get her to curl around it and turn away.

Alisha clutched at her shoulder, breathing through her teeth as the sharp pain faded away. Only then did she lift her hand to stare at it. She had the time to register that there was no blood, and then Rose was grabbing onto her hand, staring at it.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, just surprised.”

Rose stared down at her hand, rubbing her thumb over it. “Damn brat. We should have skinned it like I said.”

“Rose, it just jumped off of my shoulder, it didn’t mean to hurt me. Something just-”

 _Help him_.

Alisha let her mouth hang open, glancing around like she could pinpoint the voice in her head. Voices. There were two overlaid over each other, one a young boy’s and the other a man’s. Sometimes it was easy to pick them apart, sometimes they blended into one, a single desperate cry that echoed in the hallway.

 _Help him. Help him. HELP HIM_.

“Alisha!” Her teeth rattled as Rose shook her hard. Alisha gasped as the voices went blurry and disappeared, fading away like they had moved on down the corridor. It was strange, Elysia strange. It was something that she would have waved off, except that her stomach was twisting in worry, and the voice had sounded so desperate.

Rose shook her again, Alisha reaching up to grab onto Rose’s shoulder. “Alisha, what’s wrong?”

“A voice.”

Rose groaned and dropped her hands away. “Not you too? Was it the singing wind again?”

“No, two boys.” Alisha curled in on herself, taking deep breaths. The panic was growing again, just like the night of her coronation when Mikleo had started his flood. It was a familiar Mikleo worry.

She stood up slowly, turning on her heel. The voice didn’t come back, but there was a strange distance to everything, like whatever storm had been descending on them was close to breaking. She could feel it on the back of her neck, and almost like it was on the tip of her tongue.

The dragon keened, clawing more fiercely at the door that Mikleo had gone through. Its claws were scraping at the stone, digging furrows into it, which should have been impossible. Alisha wasn’t sure if she was seeing things or not, but it looked like it was glowing silver.

She blinked and the glow was gone, but the misgiving wasn’t. Alisha stared at the dragon, barely paying attention to Rose as she spoke.

“Isn’t it my turn to hear a voice? I’d prefer not to. All of this stuff just doesn’t sit right.”

The dragon tipped back its head and wailed, the sound making Alisha shake. “It’s Mikleo. Something’s wrong with Mikleo.”

Rose snapped her mouth shut, her whole body going tense before she nodded. Alisha was relieved that Rose didn’t ask how she knew, she just got to her feet

The woman looked around for a moment before turning and pointing. “Dezel, we’re going to need your help.”

Dezel nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. He held his arm out, Rose quick to grab it to guide him forward. It wasn’t until she got to the wall that she hesitated, looking at the two doors. “Which one?”

Alisha looked back at the door that the dragon was clawing at, tempted to point over at it, but something stopped her. Mikleo had used his magic to get in, but it wasn’t the same magic that Dezel had. Dezel had the gift of the wind, which meant…

She pivoted, looking at the door just to the left of the one that they were standing by. Mikleo had taught her the symbols on the way up so she wouldn’t be completely lost. He had taught her the names too, but they were gone from her head at the moment, leaving only a vague recollection. But that door had the wings, which meant wind.

“Rose, there!”

Rose turned towards the door, practically dragging Dezel across the hallway so she could press his palm against it. “Here.”

Dezel leaned into the door, pressing his palm against the stone. He stared there for a moment before he looked back over at Rose. “Now what?”

Rose make a shooing motion. “Do magic.”

“But what?”

“What Mikleo did?”

“Helpful.”

“Dezel, do I look like someone who knows magic? And don’t answer that. Just…go.”

“Dezel, Mikleo just did magic in the direction of the door.”

Dezel nodded and ducked his head, getting pushed back by a sudden gust of wind a moment later. Alisha stared at the door, her stomach sinking when nothing happened immediately.

Maybe she had gotten the symbol wrong. Or maybe it only worked for people born in Elysia. Or maybe there was something wrong with the door.

She tensed when the dragon stopped wailing, sure that everything had gone wrong. But then it was scuttling across the floor, lunging for the door even as it shook and started to open.

The door rumbled, stone grinding as it swung open from the center. The dragon was the first in as soon as he could, Alisha followed after it, ignoring Rose’s shout of warning. It didn’t matter that they didn’t know what was going on, the tight knot of worry hadn’t gone away and she had to do something about it.

She stumbled into the room, glancing around warily. The dragon looked like it was glowing again, which threw a little bit of light, not that the room needed it. Somehow, it was bright without needing lights, probably more Elysian magic. Alisha chewed at her lip, looking around the room.

Her eyes tracked to where the dragon was running across the floor, her eyes skipping over the bright silver of the dragon to the pale white of bone.

She jerked back, pressing a hand to her mouth. For a moment, she thought that they had been too late, but Alisha quickly shook her head.

Mikleo hadn’t been gone enough to have been stripped to bone, and certainly not left like this. The bones were all jumbled up in no order. Alisha swallowed and glanced up at the wall, seeing where a knife had been stabbed into it. Alisha shuddered, imagining the body being held up by that.

She took a step back, watching as the dragon keened and skittered around the body. It looked more upset now, pressing its nose against the bones and hissing.

Alisha took a cautious step forward, pausing when she heard Rose curse. She turned to look at her fiancee, shaking her head. “It’s not, Mikleo.”

“No. It’s a pile of human bones.” This last was directed over at where Dezel was standing close to her. Alisha saw Dezel tense, his hands moving like he was going to work magic, but they stopped part of the way through the motion.

He remained still as Rose approached the bones, Alisha reaching out like that could stop her. Rose just shook her head. “I’m not doing anything to them, I just want to look.”

Alisha wasn’t sure if that was meant for her or the dragon, but the dragon ducked its head like it understood and sat back. Alisha was sure she saw silver light pulse around it, but then Rose was waving her over. She crossed over to Rose at a run, kneeling beside her. She still couldn’t look at the bones quite head on, especially since she was kneeling by where the skull had fallen. It was hard to meet the empty space where the eyes had been, and to feel a shiver crawl down her spine when she realized that the lower jaw was missing.

She saw Rose move out of the corner of her eye, the woman picking up a bone and staring at it. She cursed again, setting it down a little away from the others, pointed at the splintered end. “Someone was cracking these open, for eating. They’ve got teeth marks too.”

Alisha’s gaze darted over to the dragon, feeling foolish a moment later. No one had been in the temple for years; they’d had to cut through overgrown brush and rely on Lailah to break a ward that had been placed on the temple after the disaster. If the bones had been eaten, it had been from someone inside the temple, and inside the ward.

Rose sucked in a sharp breath; Alisha sure that she had come to the same conclusion. She shivered and stood up, patting at her arms. She glanced at the other end of the room, her stomach flipping at the sizable gap between them and the wall on the other side. She had no idea how they were going to cross it, but they had to. The feeling of the storm growing closer was getting worse, like something was going to break.

She rubbed at her arms as she backed away. “Dezel-”

“Quiet.” His head jerked to the side, tipping his head from side to side like he was trying to hear something. Alisha glanced over at the dragon, but it was still distracted by the bones. He was worrying something out from underneath them, Rose quick to snatch it up.

An old amulet glinted in the night, the gem throwing rainbows of red and orange on the walls. Rose was squinting at something on it, rubbing her fingers over the gem even as the dragon pulsed with brighter light. “Hey, what’s the one with the hammer?”

“Musiphe. They’re uh…fire.”

“But this is wind.” Dezel sounded mystified and horrified at the same time, although it didn’t last long before he was turning around to glare at the shadows in one corner of the room. “Rose!”

“What?” She twisted to look back at them, the amulet still dangling in her hand.

“Did Father send you?”

Alisha froze at the voice; the words slow and strangle formed. A growl ran under them, rumbling threateningly. She turned to look at the far corner, seeing something fold itself out of the shadows.

For a moment, it looked human, but then its neck kept rising and something like a tail slipped out. In the shadows, its eyes glowed bright, unblinking and lizard like. It jerked his head from side to side, taking them in fast before hissing, the sound dragging on until it seemed to remember to talk.

“Did Father send you? It’s been so long…”

The rest disappeared into a low growl, the thing in the shadows dropping onto what looked like all fours.

Alisha jerked back, grabbing for Dezel as she turned to run past him. “We’ve got to go.”

“Where?”

“The other end of the room. There’s going to be an edge that we’re going to have to stop on.”

“Can we jump it?”

Alisha shook her head. “It’s too wide.”

“Then how the hell-”

“Magic!” Rose popped up on the other side of Dezel, making the man jump. “You’re wind, so you can do whatever needs to be done with this room. Magic us across, because the dragon is too damn small to be of any help.”

Alisha turned her head slightly, catching a flash of silver as the dragon ran along beside them. It didn’t seem to take any notice of Rose’s remark, just sprinting for the gap before opening its wings and gliding across. It skittered a bit on the landing on the other side, its head jerking up. Strangely, it looked larger than it had before.

Alisha shook her head, daring a look over her shoulder.

The thing in the shadows was moving now, loping out on legs that didn’t look right for going on four legs or two, but it seemed to be doing fine. Its snake-like head bobbed from one side to each other with its awkward gallop, its mouth open and tongue lolling.

Alisha scrambled for a better hold on Dezel, patting his shoulder. “Can you do this?”

“I don’t know! I’ve only ever called the wind into sails. We couldn’t do anything more than that.”

Alisha flinched at the reminder, but she didn’t stop. There would be time to try and make amends for what her father and grandfather had done, but when they were being chased by a monster was not that time. She just clutched at Dezel’s arm, staring at the upcoming gap.

Rose groaned, shaking him as they ran. “Just do something.”

Dezel frowned, his steps slowing a bit before he was running again. He dropped his arms so they were around their waists, pulling them tight against him. Alisha squeaked at the pressure, reaching down to grab tight onto Dezel’s hand for stability. She could hear the pounding of her heart in her ears, but she couldn’t look away from the large gap. It seemed to yawn into forever, and she was sure that they would just tumble in despite Dezel’s best efforts. But then her brother would be left alone, in whatever danger that was.

She tightened her grip, lifting her head as Rose started counting down. “5, 4, 3, 2, 1, NOW.”

Alisha felt a rush of wind, strong enough to blow her hair forward. She didn’t dare to let go of Dezel’s arm to fix it, not when the wind was still blowing strong all around her. It felt like one of the storms that would come over the lake every once and a while, the wind that rattled every building and threatened to drag the whole city back into the lake. It seemed better just to shut her eyes and cling, even when she felt her feet skid over solid ground.

Behind her, she could hear the monster roaring, the sound being nearly carried away when the wind, and then the dragon was roaring back.

“Shit!”

The wind dropped abruptly, Dezel stumbling to the side. He let go of her, Alisha opening her eyes as she fell.

She expected to see the darkness of the drop, but instead there was just stone rushing up toward her. She curled into a ball, rolling on the floor until she could come up on her feet again. Out of habit, she reached for her halberd, but it wasn’t there. She had taken a few of Rose’s extra daggers, but they were tucked away where Rose had put them, all unfamiliar places.

Alisha patted her waist for them even as she twisted to confront the monster. It had stopped on the other side of the gap, all four feet braced awkwardly on the edge, claws dug in. It snaked his neck out and hissed, quickly snapping its mouth shut when the dragon answered with a roar that was far too loud for such a little creature.

She turned to look at it, staring at a wall of silver until she realized that it was the dragon.

Alisha squeaked and stumbled back, feeling someone grab onto her. She could hear Rose and Dezel talking, but she couldn’t look away.

The dragon was the size of a draft horse and growing with every steady pulse of silver along its length. There was no questioning that it was glowing now, brighter than whatever kept the room lit, and brightest at its throat

The glow strengthened, and then the dragon was opening its mouth to release a torrent of silver fire right at the monster.

It shrieked, Alisha almost sure that she heard it speak again, but then it was dissolving in silver flame. The dragon cut off the flame, throwing his head back and spreading his wings wide. Then it was roaring again, loud enough to shake the entire temple. Alisha thought she heard matching shrieks from all around.

She pressed her hands to her ears, only looking away from the dragon when Rose pulled on her arm and shouted directly in her ear. “I’m hearing voices now!”

Alisha could hear them too, not actually voices, but something near enough like it. And they weren’t speaking, they were howling with rage that matched the dragon’s.

She hunched down twisting as the dragon made a sudden move. It pivoted and raced through the door on the wall that was now hanging open. Alisha boggled at that, confused about how the dragon had managed it, but she shoved that away for later. She could ask all the questions they wanted when they weren’t being assaulted by screaming and in danger of the dragon.

Alisha reached out for Rose, grabbing onto her and tugging. Rose seemed to get the message. She grabbed onto Dezel, hauling him along as the three of them scurried into the inner sanctum.

The space was large and open, but Alisha didn’t gawp at it for long, not when the center of the room caught her attention.

There was another monster, a huge, lion-looking kind of man, slowly getting up from where he was crouched over something in the water. Alisha was surprised at the old Ladylake uniform, and the markings of a general, but she didn’t linger over them for too long, not when she realized that there was something floating in the water. She didn’t recognize the clothes, but she did recognize the sandy brown hair, the sight of it making her heart constrict.

“MIKLEO!”

She let go of Rose, ignoring the hand that was trying to grab her back and the increased shrieking of the voices around her. She didn’t care about all of that, she was already running to where the last ring of water was and reaching out.

Her fingers brushed her brother’s back, Alisha just getting the time to grab onto the cloth there when she spotted glowing blue eyes in the water.

Alisha caught her breath, staring at them as an equine head emerged, the water not dripping from it as much as it dripped around and into it, like it was made of water, all dark blue and green, and pure black in the eyes and nostrils.

It pinned its ears, lifting its lips back further than any natural horse, revealing far too many teeth. It gaped at her like that for a moment before lunging forward faster than Alisha had time to process the movement. The horse clamped its mouth around Mikleo’s arm, Alisha only realizing what it was about to do a moment too late.

“No. No, no, no, no!” She scrambled for a better hold as the horse started to pull, straining against it. “You can’t have him! You can’t!”

Her fingers slipped against wet cloth, Alisha grunting as she tried to pull back. She slid forward, nearly tumbling into the water herself. Alisha bit back a sob, scrambling at the stone to try and pull him back. “Mikleo, help me!”

She had never known her brother to have problems in the water, and he was never certainly this. He was limp and cold, and she couldn’t push the idea of the lion creature pushing him down into the water, because no one should have been able to do that. Not even Maltran had been able to stand up to her brother, and she was the strongest person Alisha had known.

Alisha reached down to grab Mikleo’s other hand, feeling her fingers tangle in something that he was holding in limp fingers. But that didn’t help either.

The horse sunk deeper, until all Alisha could see were its glowing blue eyes. They blinked once, and then Mikleo was slipping into her grasp and into the cold water.

“No!”

She lunged for him, falling in up to her shoulders before Rose was grabbing her and pulling her back. “Alisha!”

“It took him!” She struggled against Rose, flailing back with the hand that held the thing that Mikleo had been holding. “It took him away! And he’s-”

A sob choked off the next words, Alisha clutching at Rose’s arms and letting her fingers go loose. There was a distant clatter, but everything was distant now, even the dragon and the voices. The whole world felt like it was wrapped in cotton, or underwater.

It felt like when she had been frozen.

She drew in a breath, feeling it catch and burn in her lungs. “He’s dead.”

The words were forced out with her breath, Alisha not even sure that anyone heard her, not when the way that she was starting to curl into Rose.

The dragon must have, because it did a strange roar and keen, both of them sounding loud and in two different voices.

Rose clutched her closer even as Alisha shifted to look.

The lion creature was still there, but the dragon had leapt and pinned it to the ground. It was roaring over it now, the strange glow coming through its throat.

Alisha looked down at the lion monster under its talons, staring at the uniform and the braids.

General Heldalf had been lost in Elysia, and there were some of his soldiers remaining. They probably spoke of him just as well as Maltran had.

Alisha shuddered at the memory, her dulled mind catching on that.

Maltran had talked of the general as a great hero, a great man, and yet she had been the one trying to kill Mikleo because he had magic, and to keep her off of the throne, because she had never approved of Alisha. Because Alisha had been weak.

If Heldalf had been such a great hero to her, she shouldn’t be surprised about what he did.

If Heldalf was here, killing her brother, then he wasn’t the hero everyone thought he was.

Alisha climbed to her feet, feeling Rose’s hands slip down to hold her waist, like she was going to fall over. But Alisha didn’t think that was possible. She was steady. She was frozen, and only a small part of her was still raging. Everything else was still, like the lake.

Like her brother.

Alisha took a slow step forward, staring down at the former general on the ground. “General Heldalf.”

She was surprised that he responded, because he was more monster than man at this point. Or maybe the outside finally matched the inside.

Alisha tipped her chin back, trying to look like all of the portraits that were hung up on the walls. She didn’t quite know how to be that kind of queen, but at least she could look like it. Even if she could still hear Maltran’s taunts that she wasn’t good enough, wasn’t strong enough to do this kind of work. She would have to be, and the cold was helping.

“You have broken the peace treaty with Elysia and killed a prince of the blood. I strip you of your title…” She glanced up at the snarling dragon, the one who felt like a god if she had ever seen one. Alisha dipped her head to him. “He’s yours.”

The dragon seemed perplexed for a moment, its jaw working before it turned its full attention on Heldalf. It seemed to struggle for a moment before opening its mouth, cautiously, like it was fighting an internal battle. The glow throbbed in its neck, softly at first, and then in a rush as the dragon let its jaw drop to breathe out the silver flame.

Heldalf roared when it hit him, but Alisha didn’t smell burning. She didn’t feel anything either, just the same growing numbness. She flexed her fingers, expecting to hear the warning crackle like the last time she had been frozen, but there was nothing. Everything seemed to be working, which couldn’t be right either.

Something should be happening, something like when their parents had died and her world had come crashing down around her. Then she had done nothing but feel, and it should be the same for Mikleo. To not do otherwise felt wrong.

Or maybe her accidental freezing had made things worse.

The flames around Heldalf flickered and started to die down, dissipating into silver sparks rather than the guttering of a normal fire. And there was something about it too, like a release of something, but not the tension that she had been feeling. She felt like she could understand that at least.

It was grief, a grief that dug into the core of a person.

Alisha could feel that. Theirs was pure, hot anger. Hers was cold.

The voices around them rose to a fever pitch, the alter in the center of the room shaking with it. Alisha thought she caught sight of a small rock creature, a salamander like Lailah’s and a twisting shape of a thing that was weaving through the pinwheels.

And then there was the dragon, screaming its pain to the sky as is blazed silver before slipping strangely.

Rose cursed and reached for her weapons, and even Dezel found the direction unerringly. He raised his hand, stopping it halfway through the motion as he breathed heavily, like it took much more effort than it should. It was something that they should be worrying about, but Alisha was too busy watching the two shapes formed.

The dragon was the first to come back, its head still tipped back and its jaw open in a silent scream.

The second shape took a while, the silver flame around it flaring brightly before resolving into the shape of the young man. This time, his scream was audible, the sound echoing loud in the chamber before the man slumped forward, clutching as his head.

Alisha watched as his shoulders heaved up and down with each breath, sometimes catching and shaking, and felt almost jealous. She was still there, still frozen and this person who had never known her brother felt more grief. And yet, she almost preferred being frozen because everything made a horrible sense then. Everything felt removed and safe, like a blink later she could be back to where everything was right and as it should be.

The dragon gave itself a shake, glancing down at where the man was sobbing on the ground before jerking its head up. It hopped on its back legs, the force enough to shake the room, and then he was flying up towards the ceiling, spewing silver fire.

That seemed to snap the man out of his grief, the man scrambling to his feet and reaching out. “PHI!”

The dragon didn’t seem to hear him, it was already clawing at the ceiling, tearing chunks of masonry down as it roared. There was an answering bellow from the alter, the others rising up and growing larger.

There was a snap in the air, something with enough force to send them all stumbling. Alisha reached out for Rose, grabbing her tightly and she stared around in inner sanctum.

Alisha felt like she was beginning to understand now. After all, Elysia was supposed to be a land of the Great Lords and magic, and she had seen all of the latter and none of the former. And now, here they were in all of their glory, and they were tearing down the temple.

The thought ran through her, making no sense for a moment, and then it was like everything that had been frozen was thawed, and replaced by panic.

If the temple was coming down she could lose more, Rose and Dezel, and then there would be nothing for her and empty memories of parents and her brother gone.

She couldn’t do that again.

“Rose,” she grabbed her fiancée’s arm, “we have to go, they’re bringing the whole thing down on us.”

Rose hesitated for a moment, looking deep into her eyes before nodding. Even when Rose took her hand, it was gentle and careful. That was good, because she felt like rotten ice, liable to fall apart under the wrong pressure. Rose was here and alive, and that was something that she was going to hold onto.

Rose gave her a long look before reaching back for Dezel. He was already reaching for her, Rose guiding his hand to her shoulder. He bumped up against Alisha there, but that seemed to steady him, and then he was leaning into them. “Go, go!”

Alisha stumbled forward a step, the motion twisting slightly to see the man still kneeling on the floor. He seemed to be oblivious to the stones that were falling around him. She wasn’t even sure that he was human, after all, he had come from the dragon.

She saw him reach out when shaking hands for a journal that was on the floor. He stared at it for a moment, frowning the longer he looked. If he stayed there much longer, he would be trapped and killed, and Alisha couldn’t stomach that. Her life seemed to be painted over in loss and she didn’t need to add more to it.

“Come on!” She twisted to reach for him with her free hand, seeing him start.

He stared at them with silver flecked green eyes, wide and frightened for a moment before he was scrambling to his feet. He clutched the journal to his chest, turning to point across the room. “No, over this way, it’ll get us out faster.”

Alisha hesitated, bringing their group to an awkward stop. The direction that he was pointing was just a solid wall, but it seemed better than fighting through the room that Dezel had opened and then through the rest of the temple. After all, the man had come from the dragon, and that had to mean something.

Alisha swallowed before tugging on Rose’s hand. “That way.”

She didn’t wait to see if Rose to agree, she just spun them around, grabbing a better hold of both. She heard Dezel squawk, but it was quickly lost in the howling of the voices and the roar of the dragon. Alisha risked a look up at them, shaking at the sight of chunks of stone clattering to the floor. She ducked her head and focused on the man’s back, watching as he rushed to the wall and slammed his head against it. Alisha couldn’t tell if he did anything special, but the wall slid open like it had when Dezel, silver flame dancing around the edges.

He turned to look back at them, Alisha picking up the pace until she was sprinting full out towards the opening. She could see that there was daylight on the other side, the trees whipping around in a gale. Alisha shuddered, but that was better than trying to race through the temple before it fell apart. And Zaveid was out there, and he had been promised to Hyanoa, or however the Elysians called it. Maybe he could work to calm them.

Maybe he and Lailah could work out a deal.

Maybe they could get her brother back.

More of the rotten ice sloughed away, leaving jagged lines of pain, ones that had her squeezing Rose’s hand desperately as they charged out into the open.

The wind nearly took her breath away, just like it threatened to blow her away. Alisha grabbed for a better hold on Rose and Dezel, leaning into the two of them to try and keep her balance. She only heard Rose shouting because the woman was right next to her ear.

“DEZEL! DEZEL, DO SOMETHING!”

If Dezel responded she couldn’t hear it. She just felt the press of wind around her, the direction altering slightly, which was enough to let her breathe a little easier, but nothing more. They were still leaning hard into the wind, Alisha fixing her gaze on the back of the man as he pushed forward. He seemed to be having an easier time of it, which was something else that she was more than happy to not think about at the moment.

Elysian magic, it had to be. And she would hold onto that for a while longer, because maybe then he could do something about Mikleo.

She gripped onto Rose’s hand more tightly, leaning into her as they stumbled through the wind storm. Alisha glanced around, her throat going dry when the saw the sparks for flame that were dancing on the trees without burning. The earth seemed to be shaking, like it had in Ladylake.

In fact, all of this was like Ladylake. Back then it had been the Great Lords, but they hadn’t been trying. It was more like they were trying to get them away. This time, there was none of that. This was their full fury, and it frightened her. It was just like all of the stories that her grandfather had told, or the things that the council had ranted about. No wonder they had been frightened; this was terrifying. It was to the point where she wasn’t sure that even Mikleo could have stood up against it. Even Dezel was struggling.

Alisha swallowed and clung harder, leaning forward and breaking into an awkward jog. It wasn’t much, but it kept them moving away from the fire and the stones tumbling down.

The voices in her head roared louder, Alisha sure that they were turning their attention towards them. She shivered at the gaze, not daring to look over her shoulder. She didn’t want to when they were so angry, not when she was still wearing something recognizable as from Ladylake.

The man led them around a cluster of fallen columns, the stone blocking some of the wind enough that they could uncurl. But then he was rushing over to the edge of the plateau and jumping off the side. Alisha felt Rose hesitate for a second before taking a stronger grip of both her and Dezel before practically hurling the three of them off the side.

Alisha expected a long fall, not the gentle roll down the slope to the base. She was already untangling herself from them, catching herself before she reached for a knife. She was facing up at the temple, where it was wreathed in smoke, hovering stones and whatever debris had been caught up in the wind. The dragon was there now, clawing its way up through a hole that it had made, all while spewing silver flame. It was terrifying, and she was staring to run before she could stop herself.

She only got a few steps before she saw the soldiers rushing over. Alisha sucked in a breath when she saw that they were the Ladylake ones that had been caught behind the barrier. But the Great Lords were angry, and here were Ladylake soldiers running with weapons drawn.

“No, don’t! For your own safety!”

Alisha wasn’t sure how much they heard, but it looked like nothing. And that wasn’t good enough. The storm had broken and it felt like she was hanging onto everything by the tips of her fingers, and it was going to be torn from her grasp.

Captain Eleanor rushed over to her, jamming her halberd into the ground to keep from crumpling over. “Your majesty!”

Alisha reached out to grab her, holding her other arm out. Rose and Dezel were quick to grab on, Alisha trying to steady them as Eleanor started hauling them back in.

The captain pulled her close, having to shout to be heard over the wind. “Apologies, your highness.”

Alisha shook her head. “We need to get clear!”

That at least was understood, Eleanor ushering them back into the group of Ladylake soldiers. Alisha found herself and Rose shoved to the middle while Dezel remained on the outside. She could see his hands moving as he kept deflecting the wind, making it easier for them to run along the side of the temple to Camlann.

Her heart pounded faster at the sight of so many people tightly clustered. Despite catching a glimpse of Lailah’s red dress among them, she doubted that the Shepherds could do much. The Great Lords were furious after what had happened, and the Shepherds were mere humans.

She bit her lip, staring at the group before making up her mind. She may have only been queen of half of the people, but she wasn’t going to let them all be destroyed. That legacy would belong to her grandfather alone.

Alisha shouldered her way out of the protective huddle of Ladylake soldiers, ignoring the calls for her to come back. They didn’t have the time for that. They needed to move people until they were safe, or at least muster the Shepherds and priests to a point where they could defend themselves until the rage quieted.

“Lailah! LAILAH!” Alisha screamed as loud as she could as he barreled into the woman, clutching at her. “We need to get everyone out of Camlann, to somewhere safe. The Great Lords are furious.”

“They are awake.” There was awe in Lailah’s voice. “They haven’t been awake in seventeen years. Even when I found Musphie…” She shook her head, refocusing. “They’re so angry. I’ve never felt this before. It’s…it’s hard to think with it.”

“We need to you think, because we need you to protect them.”

Lailah sucked in a sharp breath. “Do you think they’ll harm us?”

Alisha licked her lips, not knowing what to say. She didn’t know the Great Lords, she just knew what she had been told growing up, what she had read in books, and what Mikleo had told her.

She felt her stomach twist at the thought, squeezing Lailah’s shoulders before she could stop herself. Mikleo was later, when she was sure that she wouldn’t lose anyone else. The rotten ice was still there, sharp and fragile.

Alisha swallowed, trying to formulate the best plan of action. But Ladylake had been at peace for years, so she only knew what she had read in books. Besides, those were against humans, not spirits. Alisha didn’t know how to begin to fight them, but she did know what had worked before. Whatever had been done had sealed them away and created the barriers.

She met Lailah’s gaze. “How did you seal the Great Lords off the first time?”

Lailah shook her head. “We didn’t.”

“I did.”

Alisha jumped, turning to stare at the man. He was closer than expected, his strange eyes puffy and red from crying. He was still clutching at the journal, but his hands were shaking.

He took a deep breath and nodded at the two of them. “I helped Maotelus do it, but it won’t work again. They’re too angry.” He looked up at them, playing with the tie on the journal. “They saw what happened.”

His gaze dropped to her hand, Alisha frowning and holding it up. To her surprise, the amulet was still there, shining in the light. Alisha stared at it for a while before holding it out. “Mikleo had this.”

She didn’t expect the man to react, to swallow so hard it seemed to shake him. But he reached out decisively, frowning as soon as he looked at the amulet. “No…Mikleo wouldn’t have had this. This is for Eumacia, not for Amenoch.”

“It was in his hand when he was…” Alisha felt more of the ice slough away, feeling raw and broken. There were words that she should be able to say, but to do so would make it permanent.

She shook her head, looking pleadingly at the man. “There has to be something!”

“Your majesty!” Alisha spun around at the shout.

Eleanor had fallen back to just in front of her, standing with her halberd raised to point at the temple. “They’re tearing it apart. What are your orders?”

Alisha stared up at the building, watching as a funnel of wind tore apart an outbuilding before turning on one of the corners. Fire flickered on the inside, so hot that it was turning blue. Rocks went flying off to the sides, but never towards Camlann. And, over it all, the dragon hovered, sometimes swooping back in to claw at the rocks or breath the silver flame over it. Already, half the temple was gone, and it hurt to see.

This was something that her father had taken pride in. She had seen him working on it back in Ladylake. She had helped him with some of it in her childish way. It had been everything to him, everything he wanted to do with his reign. It was peace and prosperity. Her father had wanted to be known for his buildings. And it had been a gift, to the woman he and her mother had loved equally. After all, she had been a priestess, and what better courting gift than a temple to their gods.

She didn’t want to let it be destroyed.

Alisha lifted her arm, ready to give the order when she stopped, watching the Great Lords. The temple was everything to her father, but she remembered the skeleton that she had seen, the monster and the general who had killed her brother that had been locked in. It made her wonder; how many bodies were in there. And, if the temple had ever been what her father wanted it to be.

Alisha looked at the soaring structure, knowing that the inside was blank and soulless, and made her choice.

“Stand down, let them tear it apart.”

“Your highness!”

“No.” Alisha turned her back to the building, not bothering to fight back the tears that she could feel falling. “They deserved their anger. It was a trick all along.”

Eleanor stared at her; Alisha not sure how to reassure her that she was right. It was impossible without what she had seen, the body, her brother floating in the water, and knowing what Maltran had tried back in Ladylake. There was only the hope that Eleanor would stand by her oath, and that she had known something from her time seventeen years before.

Alisha took a deep breath and straightened her back, staring at Lailah. “If you could get a message to them, there is are two bodies in there; one they might like to recover and one that…I would be in their debt if they recover. A priest, I think, of Hyanoa, and…my brother…”

The rest wouldn’t come out no matter how hard she tried, Alisha feeling the words jammed in the back of her throat. She tried to work them out, giving up when Rose came over to grab her shoulder. Alisha shook her head, leaning back into her fiancée before focusing on Lailah again. “Please?”

“They already know.” The man jerked his gaze away for a moment before straightening his back. “They knew from the start, that’s why we had to seal them away.”

Alisha gaped at him, almost glad that Rose bullied up alongside her and glared at him. “ _We_?”

“Maotelus and I.” The man shifted in place before jerking his chin in the direction of the temple. “Michael was the one to work it out. He was there when I got there because Maotelus was…screaming.” He made a face like it wasn’t the right word, but quickly shook his head. “That’s why Heldalf killed him, before he could warn everyone and trying to calm them down. There wasn’t much time and my – Heldalf, was trying to kill me so Maotelus and I made do. To keep everyone asleep until they had calmed down and we were sure that things could be made right. But we held too tight and slept too long, until something broke through.”

Lailah reached out to touch his arm, hesitating for a moment before letting it settle there. “What did?”

“Mikleo.” Alisha was sure of that down to her core. The problem was she didn’t know if it had been when his powers had first exploded outward, when he had nearly flooded Ladylake, or when he had actually said that he had freed the spirits. Alisha supposed that it didn’t matter, because it had happened. There was nothing they could do about it now.

She twisted to look at the temple, flinching as one side slowly slid down, the rock creature climbing on top of it to beat as the stones. The move was greeted with what seemed like cheers from the three others. It renewed their efforts, Alisha watching as they seemed to stop their mindless destruction and focus on a concerted effort. But their voices still keened in her mind with grief.

If they were this loud for her, she could imagine how they felt for the Shepherds attached to the Great Lords.

And she could imagine the depth of their grief and anger. She could feel it now, like when her father, mother, and Muse had left and died. How she had mourned, but struggled to hide how furious she was that they had left her and Mikleo. Furious about the mess that she had been left to deal with and the people that wouldn’t listen to her. People who wanted to keep pushing back her coronation until she could be forgotten. Furious with her brother who had refused to help her in any way.

She felt it now, for the general she had been told to revere and then who had killed her brother. For everything her grandfather had done, and for her father’s own idealistic blindness that hadn’t let him see what was happening.

And Mikleo himself, for daring to leave her with a mess again. She had Rose to lean on, and the loyalty of the Ladylake soldiers, but she had come to depend on her brother, as practical as he was. The only things she had to offer were things that sounded political, empty statements that wouldn’t change a thing.

Alisha shivered, ignoring Rose’s hands on her arms no matter how much she wanted to just fall back into them. This wasn’t time for Alisha, she didn’t know when that time would be again. Right now, the queen was needed.

She drew herself up, looking over the assembled people and feeling her heart pound. The village chief wasn’t there, not that she was surprised. He was an old man, and he wouldn’t be someone that they sent running towards disaster. More to the point, Edna was missing from the group of Shepherds and priests, which meant that she was guarding him. It was a good idea, but the problem was that she needed a leader for what she was going to do.

Her gaze dropped to Lailah, Alisha struggling not to look over at the man. He was an unknown, and something for later, definitely for later. But Lailah was someone she knew from all of this, the one that spoke out for them if not the leader.

Alisha clasped her hands together. “We’ll help you retrieve them and give them a proper burial. It’s not much compared to…” She scrambled for words, trying to find them. There was nothing that had prepared her for this. The queen never apologized, that was something that she knew for sure, but this situation called for it, because it had been Ladylake’s fault.

She swallowed hard, holding her ground. “I want to fix this, so there must be something I can do.”

Lailah stared at her for a moment before shaking her head. “I think you’ve done what they’ve always wanted. You’ve let them destroy that temple.”

“But…what will you do without it?”

“There are others, and we don’t strictly need it. It was a sign of peace, or so they said.” Lailah gave her a long look. “We can work on something later though. We’d appreciate the help with the bodies of our Shepherds though.”

She smiled, but it was strained, and Alisha couldn’t imagine it any other way. She just nodded, glancing back at the next rumble and slide of rock as another side of the temple fell down. Alisha heard Eleanor shift, but she was relieved that she didn’t order the soldiers to move. That was something to be explained later, when amends were made and they were considering leaving.

That was after they figured out what to do about Mikleo.

Her next breath caught, Alisha choking in it, sure that the words she wanted to say where in there with them. Her fingers twitched, Alisha reaching out.

Rose was nearby, and she understood, but she always had. Despite her brashness, she was well versed in the language of quiet between them.

Her hand slipped into Alisha’s, squeezing tight before gently pulling her back. Alisha was surprised by that, because she was the queen, and Rose had always made her position clear. She was perfectly happy to be a consort, to play at decadence, and give advice, but she in no way wanted to rule like Alisha did. And the was certainly a situation that Alisha thought would involve ruling.

She went to stand beside Rose, but was quieted with a squeeze of her hand, Rose leaning back towards her. “We lost Mikleo in there. Some monster drowned him.”

Lailah sucked in a quick breath and the man flinched like he had been shot. Alisha watched as he curled around the journal. Lailah must have noticed, because her gaze darted over to the man before shaking her head. “No. He is blessed by Amenoch, he cannot drown.”

There was certainty in her voice, something that made Alisha’s heart flutter. Because Lailah would know, she was the most knowledgeable out of everyone there. And then there was her own gut, the small glow of hope that said that her brother wasn’t dead, that he had been faking it to try and lure the monster into a false sense of security. At least until that Nokk had pulled him under.

Alisha inched forward so her shoulder was level with Rose, watching as the man turned and held out the amulet.

Lailah took it, staring at the carving on it with wide eyes before looking over at her. There was a flicker in her gaze, shock, sorrow and pity. And that said more than Alisha was willing to accept.

She shook her head. “He couldn’t have, the water has never done anything to him. It’s…it’s his magic. He would be fine, until that water horse took him.”

“Amenoch.” Lailah frowned, rubbing her thumb over the carving. “If it was before then…” Lailah looked up at the four spirits tearing the temple down. Alisha almost turned to look herself, but then Lailah was tensing. “Amenoch is not there with them.”

Alisha turned then, looking over the raging spirits. She could see wind, fire, and earth, as well as the silver dragon she assumed was Maotelus. But there wasn’t water, there had never been water aside from when it had taken Mikleo. “W-would it not want to be here? Or is there another temple?”

If there was, then maybe that’s where they could recover her brother’s body. Alisha felt herself shake, but she tried to hold steady. She could fall apart later, when everything was settled. Although she was sure that Rose could still feel her shaking, which was probably the reason that Rose was leaning into her.

Lailah was shaking her head again, her gaze locked on the amulet. Something must have occurred to her because her whole body began to shake. She curled her fingers around the iris gem, turning to look at the man. “What does Lord Maotelus say?”

The man frowned, staring at the dragon like he would be able to make out what it was roaring. But he must have because the frown eased into something like terror. “No.”

“What?”

The man looked at her, the silver flickering like fire in his eyes. “Amenoch went to Ladylake. They intend to pull it under the lake.”

“What?!” Alisha looked in the direction of her kingdom. “But the barrier-”

“It’s gone. We tore it apart when the other Great Lords awakened.” The man shook his head. “It was only meant to last while they were all asleep. Then they started waking up, and it was all we could do to hold it.”

“Then he’s gone.” Alisha swallowed, reaching back to rest one of her hands on her knives. “Eleanor!”

“We’re with you.”

She let go of Rose’s hand and started away from the group at a run, just barely breaking free when the man was running around her and holding out a hand.

“No wait! You can’t outrun them. Amenoch is the lord of water, it won’t take them long to get down the river to the lake.” The man struggled for words for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”

Alisha shook her head, because it wasn’t enough. Sorry could never be enough to make up for all of the buildings that would be lost, the property, the documents, the culture. Her people were safe enough, safely hidden in one of the old temples far back from the lake. She and Mikleo had taken them there specifically because they would be safe and away from the lake. She had left most of the palace guard in charge of making sure that none of them had snuck back to the city, but Alisha was sure that some of them would, because their whole lives were there.

They were probably drowned now, they probably had been the moment Amenoch had taken Mikleo under the water.

She had failed, far worse than her father and grandfather had. They had kept Ladylake above the water, but she had destroyed it all.

Alisha dropped to her knees, barely aware of making a sound in the back of his throat. There was nothing left of the distance or the rotten ice, there was just something open and bleeding in her as everything fell to pieces around her.

* * *

He came back to himself vaguely aware of motion. It was a familiar motion, like the rocking of arms around him, or a boat. Or his heartbeat.

Which he could no longer feel.

He gasped, trying to drag air back into his burning lungs and do something to restart his heart. It was necessary, it was something that he had done his entire life, even up until the end when water was pouring in and betraying him as it had never done before.

He could still feel it there, far sharper than it had ever been before.

He leaned over the side of the rocking thing and coughed. He could feel the water dribbling out, but it wasn’t enough. He shuddered before focusing in and _reaching_.

The water flowed out, burning on the way out as it had burned on the way in. But it did nothing that relieve the strange sensation deep in his chest. His heart remained still, and he realized that he wasn’t breathing either.

He tugged the last of the water from him choking on it for a moment before taking a deep breath. It burned on the first one, and the second. By the third it was better, but it still felt wrong. Superfluous. Everything he remembered doing wasn’t right. It didn’t feel completely right anymore.

He groaned and pushed himself up slightly, trying to bring his memories into line.

He remembered the inner sanctum, the alter, the bones, Michael’s journal. And then, it went fuzzy and dark. There was pain, but it was distant, and the memory of something pressing against his neck.

He reached up to touch the place, expecting to feel where the skin had been reddened by the amulet or bruises from where it had been held tight against the skin. Instead there was nothing but smooth skin. Skin that was cold to the touch.

He felt the panic rise again, like the panic that had come when he had been held in the water and realized that his powers hadn’t worked.

He scrambled at the thing that he was on, feeling smoothly flowing under his hands before it came to a stop. He tried to twist around and slide down only to find himself looking into an equine face and glowing blue eyes.

“You!” He reached up to touch where the amulet had hung, Amenoch glancing down before ducking his head.

 _Yes. I was unsure that you had managed it in time. But you did, my Luzrov Rulay_.

Something in him jerked at that name, one that he didn’t recognize. But it had power over him, and it frightened him. He scooted back, only stopping when he felt the flow of Ameonch’s coat change to mimic a horse’s tail. He glanced over his shoulder, looking back at the rushing flow of water that was held back. He could feel its fury and anger, and yet it waited while Amenoch had paused.

He rubbed at his throat, watching the Great Lord warily. “What happened?”

 _They tried to steal you from me, like they had stolen the others and Limy Ywuark before. You will not be taken from me so easy, Luzrov Rulay. You are_ mine _. You were promised to_ me. Amenoch tossed their head, their eyes rolling. _It will not be borne, not a second time. Maotelus and his Shepherd cannot command that of us again. Our rage is too strong_.

Some of the names made sense, but they didn’t quick stick. They kept sliding off like water.

He shook his head, reaching up to clutch at it. It ached and throbbed, and Amenoch talking just made it worse. It got somewhat better now that Amenoch was running again, the water crashing and burbling behind him. Now he could hear it calling for revenge for what had been done, revenge in its lord’s name.

He turned to look at it, trying to piece it together in the jumble of his mind. There were thoughts and memories that kept rubbing up against each other and bouncing away. He reached up to drag a hand through his hair, leaning forward, only to have his bangs fall forward into his face.

He expected sandy brown, like it always had been, not the white hair that shaded down to blue at the tips.

He jerked backwards against with a hoarse shout, touching his hair in a panic. There were memories coming faster now, of painting and explanations, of sitting at his mother’s feet and hearing the old stories of what was offered to the Shepherds who served the Great Lords.

_Do not be afraid. It is merely our pact._

He dragged his hands down his face before staring at them. “What have you done to me?”

 _What was agreed to when you promised to be my Shepherd._ Amenoch threw a look over their shoulder, their ears flicking back. _It was always like this. You become a part of me, my seraph when your time is done_.

He knew that, he remembered that. But he had assumed that he would need training, actual service instead of bumbling through Ladylake and then up into Elysia.

And if he was from Ladylake, a _prince_ from Ladylake.

Mikleo took a deep breath, memories falling back into their proper order, not that it helped. He now remembered dying, and the horror that had come with that. His reawakening, awful and burning the way water had never been. It felt like everything had been pulled out of joint and roughly shoved back with glaring gaps missing.

 _That is how we feel. Limy Ywuark was mine and her absence will never heal. I will live forever feeling that. I feel all of those that were stolen from me and I would not allow it to happen again. I will destroy that place that tried to take two of my Shepherds from me_.

Mikleo blinked, staring down at Amenoch before dragging his gaze up. He wasn’t in the temple any longer, but he had expected that.

What he hadn’t been expecting was to be speeding down towards Ladylake. They were already near the mouth of the river where it met the lake, and the roaring behind them was only getting louder.

Mikleo twisted around to look behind him, staring at the wall of water rising always higher under the Great Lord’s anger. He wouldn’t be surprised in the headwaters were completely drained dry. He could feel that same rage thrumming through him, because they were practically one now. He couldn’t imagine feeling them the rest of his life. Or, what would have been his life. As a seraph, he had a charmed, partially immortal existence.

He pressed his hand over where his heart should be, unnerved by the stillness. He dug his fingers in, staring up at where Ladylake was looming over the lake. “That’s my home.”

 _No. Elysia is your home. Camlann is your home. Your home is with me, not with traitors_.

Mikleo stared down at the Great Lord, at the rage churning in them, the pain and deep sorrow for something horrible done that couldn’t be undone, nor could it be fixed. It was a loss so deep that it threatened to consume him, to drown him in a way that General Heldalf had not been able to.

It was tempting to go on, everything in what he was now sung with the rhythms of the Great Lord, which was probably what it meant to be a seraph. But he could also feel the waters of Ladylake, and those were familiar to him to. He was not just a being of Amenoch’s, not just his Shepherd or seraph, He had two titles, two homes, and he was not going to let one die.

He dug his hands into the suggestion of a mane, gathering the water in his hands and pulling back. “That is my _home_.”

Amenoch shook their head, tearing the water from Mikleo’s grasp like he was nothing more than an annoyance. He would have been offended if he couldn’t feel how much the Great Lord needed him, how much Teresa’s death and that fact that she was beyond his reach forever dragged on them. It was a snag in their being that would never break free, something that rubbed painfully. It would take soothing and calming, when Mikleo had the time for it. Right now, he had other duties.

He glanced up at Ladylake again, testing the strength of the waters surging behind them, and the flow of the lake. The water circled lazy there, finding its way into the canals of the city before finding its way out to the sea. It was a route, but one he had to be careful with. It was more water than he was used to, more water than he had ever controlled, even when he was flooding Ladylake. That had just been calling on the water to rise, water that he had known and called to all of his life. This was new, under the control of something greater than him.

But he was greater than before, something different, changed.

Transformed.

Mikleo took a deep breath before swinging down from Amenoch’s back, freezing the water beneath his feet before he landed. He stumbled and slid before he got his balance. He held his hands out to steady himself, turning one towards the thrum of rage and pain that was Amenoch.

A twitch of his fingers had the water rising, Mikleo sending it out after the Great Lord, freezing at it went along. He shaped it into a loop, feeling the ice crunch and rub against itself as he tightened it around the Nokk’s neck.

Amenoch squealed and wheeled around, Mikleo feeling the Great Lord strain against the rope. It wouldn’t be enough to control them. Amenoch was stronger than him, he was in command of the waters far more than Mikleo was. But he was a seraph, Amenoch’s seraph, and his connection to this world, and their previous promise still held. More than that, it was the shock, that Mikleo would do this that was holding the Great Lord at bay, and that was all that he needed.

He spread the fingers of his free hand, urging the next gentle wave to rise and rise until it was towering above the city. The wave glimmered and fought, Mikleo gritting his teeth before curling his fingers towards his palm, freezing the whole wave. It was easier then, steadier, and it made it easier to carve into shape; high, thick and strong where the rushing water would impact and tapering away so the water could rush past the city. That would take some of the pressure off him.

Mikleo looked at the oncoming rush of water, the top white and foaming like Amenoch’s mane before he braced himself. He leaned hard into his magic, feeling it roll out smooth and cool. It wasn’t raging like it had done before, fighting against his control. The water sung in his veins like a phantom heartbeat, moved like he would have breathed before. It was completely new, and yet, the same. The same calm like when he had been young and made his mother laugh when playing with raindrops.

He growled low, pouring more ice into his wall, holding it strong as the water crashed into it. Mikleo watched as the waters roared and rose, threatening to over reach the wall, but he was ready for that.

He reached back for Ladylake, for the canals and the water that ran underneath the city and _pulled_ , drawing it out and into the back of the lake, back towards the river and towards the sea even as he dragged water from the wall around.

It fought him for a moment, Mikleo feeling its need to destroy the city, but he leaned against it, tugging on the rope that he still held Amenoch with. “No! I am Prince Mikleo of Ladylake, these are _my_ people too.”

_They are not mine. They do not know me!_

“They live on your waters; they love the lake and the canals. They live in the rhythm of it.” Mikleo took a deep breath, trying to control the flow so it didn’t overrun the sewer system. Amenoch tried to take advantage of his inattention, but Mikleo just pulled harder on the rope, adding another layer of ice. It held, but just barely as the Great Lord bucked and twisted. “They don’t know your name, but they honor the waters.”

_They killed Limy Ywuark!_

“And the ones that did are dead now. They were killed when you raged seventeen years ago, and then I took care of the ones down here when they threatened my family. My grandfather is dead, and the people have had an Elysian prince in their midst for seventeen years.”

_They feared you!_

“I feared myself.” Mikleo took a deep breath and dropped the ice wall, melting it before it crashed back into the lake.

It rose the lake level, the wave rolling to lap at the walls of Ladylake in a friendly caress before falling back into the lake. Mikleo stared at the water, at the overfull lake and the empty river bed across from him. It looked sad, barren and lost, but it was safe for now.

He sighed, leaning over with the strange urge to pant for breath, but there was no need to anymore. He still stayed bent over, clutching at the ice rope. It felt more fragile as Amenoch still raged, but it had served its purpose for now. The only problem was what to do if Amenoch tried again.

He had heard stories of seraphim and what powers they had, like the Shepherds but multiplied. They were closer to the base element, to the Great Lords, but even the Great Lords’ strength was not eternal.

A shout had him looking up, Mikleo expecting to see another wave coming in from the ocean, or water spilling out of Ladylake where he had miscalculated. He found himself looking at the bridge, his mouth falling open when he saw the people standing on it.

Alisha had told them to stay away, but it was no surprise that they had come back for this. They had probably recognized him as soon as they had seen the frozen wall come up, and the bridge was too far away for them to see how much he had changed, not that he thought that they would care. He was their prince, and he had saved them again.

Mikleo raised his arm to wave at them, hearing them cheer all the louder and shout for him. He smiled, making a gesture that he hoped would send them back away to safety, but it just seemed to encourage more to gather. He sighed and slumped slightly, looking back over his shoulder at Amenoch.

The Nokk had stopped struggling and was now staring at the bridge, their ears pricked forward. A shudder ran through him, the color of his coat changing from the dark of a storm-tossed lake to a clear stream, light blue like their eyes with dapples made from ripples.

Mikleo let him look for a long, silent moment before letting the rope melt in his hands. Amenoch snorted as it disappeared, raising one leg before setting it down carefully.

Amenoch took their time looking back at him, now looking unsure. _They ruined everything. I couldn’t reach Limy Ywuark, they wouldn’t let me. It was how they almost took you, and all I could do was watch_.

Mikleo nodded slowly, understanding a bit better. To have all of the powers of a god, and all the attachment of millennia. To love so much to take those that devoted themselves into oneself, just to prevent the pain of them leaving juts a bit longer. And then to have someone know just how to take that all away and be left with a horrible hole in your heart…

Mikleo knew what that felt like at least.

He held out his hand, smiling when Amenoch walked over. The Great Lord hesitated before dropping their muzzle into Mikleo’s palm.

Mikleo let it rest there for a moment before reaching up with his free hand to press it against Amenoch’s forehead. “I lost my parents, when I was young. They went searching for something to help me when I couldn’t control my power. All three of them, because they cared. Their ship sunk.”

Amenoch’s eyes closed, their whole body leaning into Mikleo. _I know. I felt it. Muse was not chosen by any of us, but she was well loved._

“She was loved here too.”

Amenoch remained still for a moment, even the water that made up his coat stopping. Then they threw back their head and let out the scream of an injured horse, the sound echoing loud around the lake and in the center of Mikleo’s chest were his heart was.

He opened his arms slightly, surprised when Amenoch shoved their head into the empty space, pressing their head into Mikleo’s chest. The sound was slightly more muffled there, but Mikleo could feel it shaking through them, just like he could feel the harsh edges of the snag that Teresa’s death had left behind, and some of the others that Amenoch hadn’t been able to save, the ones who had gone too far from water, or the ones who had broken their pact to go free, but the ends had still lingered, broken and fraying.

Mikleo wrapped his arms awkwardly around the Nokk’s head, holding them there as Amenoch shook and cried. It wasn’t like a human, but it felt enough like it. And the holding felt like it helped, like something being repaired instead of being broken.

He stroked his hands along Amenoch’s neck, digging his fingers into the suggestion of a mane. It was cool there, bubbly. He combed his hands through it a few times before looking back at the bridge.

There were still some people there, but most of them were rushing back into the city, either to check their property or to trying and spot Alisha. If he was there, it made sense that their queen would be.

Mikleo sucked in a quick breath, feeling it sit oddly before he remembered the motions to breathe to get it out. Then his chest settled still again. Mikleo swallowed and patted Amenoch a few more times before stepping away.

The ice crunched under his boots, Mikleo sliding a bit before he caught his balance again. “The river needs tending to.”

Amenoch held his gaze before dipping their head. _Yes._

Mikleo hesitated for a moment before resting his hand on Amenoch’s withers and boosting himself onto the Great Lord’s back. Amenoch twisted their head to watch him with glowing eyes, then they shook, foam flying off of their mane. _Call the water. We will take it home._

Mikleo twisted to look at the swollen lake, rubbing his hands together before lifting them out over the water. At first, he just felt the water, but then it came to him slowly, the difference between the water in the lake and the water that had come from the river. It was like the water remembered where it had been, where it had rightfully belonged before Amenoch had called on it.

He frowned and prodded at the two different sources until he felt that he had a good grasp of what needed to go where. When Amenoch moved on, the water followed behind them, making ripples in the lake. Mikleo looked back at it, wondering about how it looked before motioning it onwards. The water remembered where to go, so it jumped out of his hands, rushing back up the river.

Amenoch snorted and picked up their hooves in a prance before launching into a gallop. Mikleo leaned forward, curling his fingers into Amenoch’s mane as the Great Lord galloped up the riverbed and back to Elysia.

* * *

Alisha sat on a log, staring into the river bed.

The entire river was gone, and it was all too easy to imagine the entire rage and anger of the Great Lord slamming down on Ladylake.

The lake was well sheltered, and there were enough standbys to keep the city from flooding too often, but she had seen it happening even before Mikleo had done it himself. And she had seen the waves that had threatened to breech the walls. She had been terrified then, and the rage of a Great Lord would be much worse.

It was justified, and all the more horrible for it. She could only hope that the people had stayed out and the royal guard had kept them safe. Or else, it was just another thing she had lost.

She was a queen without a kingdom. A woman without a family.

Alisha dropped her head into his hands, pressing her fingers into her forehead. It was too much pressure, but she didn’t care. Pain on the outside was better than pain on the inside, or maybe adding more meant that she didn’t have to think too hard on everything else. If she had to focus too much on it, Alisha was afraid of what would happen.

Her duties had brought her this far, but there was nothing else left except a slow fall apart.

Alisha’s breath hitched when she felt a hand slide over her shoulders, pressing for a moment against the base of her neck before settling in place. She shuddered and leaned back, not trusting her voice to hold. Rose understood though, she always did.

She turned her head to press a kiss to Rose’s hand, not bothering to open her eyes. She heard Rose sigh, and then she was sitting down and pulling her close.

Alisha went easily, resting her head on Rose’s shoulder. The move brought another sigh, and then Rose was rubbing her arm. They sat there quietly for a moment, Alisha turning her head to press her face against Rose’s shoulder. She was still crying, she was aware of that in a distant way, but she couldn’t get herself to stop. It was like she wasn’t really there; she was somewhere in the swirl of thoughts that kept rotating through, all telling her the same thing.

This was all she had left. Rose was all she had left.

She was grateful for that, but it was small compared to everything else that had been stripped away.

She wasn’t someone’s daughter, hadn’t been for a long while. But she had stripped away the last of her father’s legacy, and let it be torn down.

She wasn’t someone’s sister. Mikleo’s magic hadn’t worked, or had betrayed him somehow, so he had drowned and his gods had taken him from her too.

She wasn’t a queen. Her kingdom was underwater, just like her brother.

Alisha wasn’t aware that she was shaking until she felt Rose shift. She was lifted slightly before Rose was settling her jacket over her shoulders. Alisha sunk back into it, not sure what it was doing. It just felt heavy and grounding in a way that she wasn’t sure that she wanted. To be grounded meant that she had to think on it, and she didn’t want to do that, or she would be crushed.

She swallowed, curling more into the jacket, wanting to hide in it. Rose just kept stroking down her arm, letting her have a few more moments before speaking in a low voice.

“They’ve set something up and they’re bringing out the bones.”

Alisha nodded, her gaze dropping to the riverbed again. By rights, she should be there to see the people that General Heldalf and her grandfather had destroyed out of fear. She should be there to honor them and bind together, although that might not even be worth her time. After all, there was no more Ladylake.

“It’s all gone.”

She didn’t realize that she had spoken out loud until she felt Rose shift. Then she was being pulled away from the comforting warmth and made to turn. Alisha wanted to struggle to get away, to go back and look at the riverbed. At least there she felt a little bit closer to her family and kingdom. But Rose was slipping her fingers under Alisha’s chin and tipping it up.

“The city might be gone, but what about the people?”

Alisha blinked, staring at Rose as she tried to process the question.

Rose’s fingers lingered for a moment longer before she dropped them away. Her gaze darted over to the river bed before setting back on Alisha. She reached out to hold Alisha’s hand, threading their fingers together.

“When I lost Brad and Lafarga, it felt like the world had ended.” There was twist to her mouth, an old pain that Alisha didn’t dare pick at. She knew better now that she knew what the scars actually hid, what they felt like.

Rose took a few breaths before leaning in again, holding her tight. “We were on the run but I didn’t leave the wagon for days until someone, I forget who, got it in their head to have a ceremony. We just sat around, talking and drinking and… You had all of these people that loved them, and had all of that love turn to pain, and you were all there, feeling the same. And you realized that you weren’t alone in this. It didn’t heal the wound, but it was like wrapping a bandage around it and knowing that it would heal instead of fester.”

She paused holding Alisha tighter. “Lailah asked me if we would consider lending them something of Mikleo’s, just for the night. They want to hold a wake, or some kind of ceremony.”

“Rose…”

“I’m not telling you what to do.” She pressed her lips against the side of Alisha’s head, resting there for a moment. “I’m offering options.”

Alisha nodded, her gaze drifting back to the river bed and then to the other side where the forest continued. She licked her lips, grabbing a tighter hold of Rose’s arm. “I…I always wanted to come here, because Muse and Mikleo always talked about this place being beautiful. And it is. I’m glad he got to show me parts of it. I’m glad we saved it.”

“Me too.” Rose held her close, squeezing just on the edge of too tight, but it was good, grounding. Alisha wanted to stay like this for a while longer, have Rose whisper to the wind to let Dezel take care of things. Except, that her little while kept rolling around to when her brother came back.

She closed her eyes, regretting it a moment later because she could see the image of Mikleo floating face down in the water. She opened her eyes, digging her nails into Rose’s arm before she could stop herself. Alisha wasn’t sure if she managed to mutter an apology, but she wasn’t sure that it mattered. Rose didn’t rebuke her, nor did she pull away. She just pressed her face into Alisha’s hair and breathed.

Alisha found herself breathing in time, the raggedness of her breath slowing down into something normal. She tried to ignore how that felt wrong, because she wasn’t sure that she could cry anymore at the moment. All that happened was the slow tightening of her throat and the low ache that was everywhere.

Rose shifted behind her, Alisha feeling her twist to look behind her. Alisha turned to look as well. She was distracted by the man standing back on the bank. He was standing by the silver dragon, the two of them leaning close. Alisha was slightly surprised by the sight of the dragon, because she had gotten used to seeing it tiny enough to ride on a shoulder, not large enough that it dwarfed the man. Its head alone was as tall as the man, allowing him to lean against it.

“Lailah is coming.”

Rose’s warning was enough to get her to reach up to wipe her eyes, Alisha stopping part of the way through the motion. It didn’t matter if Lailah saw that she was crying, she had seen her doing it already. There was no shame in this mourning.

She dropped her hands back to her side and nodded. “T-tell her that I’ll be there, and could you get something of Mikleo’s? I don’t think I would be able to let it go.”

Rose nodded, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “I’ll take care of things.”

“No.” Alisha reached out to grab her, tugging her back as she shook her head. “I promised that you wouldn’t have to rule.”

Rose stared at her for a moment before huffing. “Alisha, I don’t mind helping. I just don’t want them expecting another princess out of a merchant.”

It was telling that Rose didn’t say what the other half of her profession was, something kept quiet since the Scattered Bones had been brought into Ladylake by Maltran to kill a threat. To kill her brother. It was something that she had forgiven Rose for long ago, but maybe it was best that they let that part of the past slide.

Alsiha nodded, squeezing Rose’s hand before letting her go. Rose lingered close for a moment longer before trudging to the bank to make the climb back up. Alisha was tempted to go back to her log and sit for a bit longer, but if she did that, she would never get up. It would be like the first few weeks after her parents had died, with her waiting by the window because she could talk herself into the idea that it would only take a moment and she would see the ship.

Only a moment more and her brother would appear.

She took a few deep breaths, pushing the catch in them further back until it was less of a sob and more of a hitch. It was the best that she could manage, and she would be satisfied with that. Alisha nodded to herself before taking a step forward, her boot splashing in water.

Alisha froze, staring down at the river bed. It had been completely dry when she had climbed down into it, searching out something to help her. Amenoch had taken all the water with them when they had turned their rage on Ladylake. But there was a puddle underneath her boot, the water rising the longer she stood there.

She turned to look back at the river, watching as the water started to trickle back up the bed. It wasn’t a torrent, but a steady rise, the water already lapping its way up her boot.

Alisha stumbled back a few steps, staring at the white foam that drifted down the river, some parts of her searching for debris from Ladylake. She didn’t know if Amenoch would bother to haul the scraps of her kingdom up with them, but it would at least give some closure to her worries. But the water was clear and fresh, the only odd thing about it was that it was running against the natural flow.

She stumbled back, staring at the oncoming water before running for the bank. She didn’t need to, because the rise was slow enough, but she felt that being in the river bed when the Great Lord returned wouldn’t be a good thing. Their rage towards Ladylake might not be quelled, and she couldn’t just leave her kingdom, not like this.

Alisha raced up the bank, grabbing onto Rose’s hand as soon as it came into her line of sight. Rose helped her scramble up over the lip, Alisha turning as soon as she had solid ground under her boots.

She was distantly aware of the Elysians and Ladylake soldiers gathering close, shouting back to the others. She wanted to look over at where her soldiers were, but she was almost afraid of what they would do. They had been trapped on the mountain for seventeen years, but that had not been when the Great Lords had been freed from Maotelus’ binding, nor with the Great Lord that had gone to destroy their home.

Alisha stretched out her hand, ready to signal them to remaining still when she caught sight of the Nokk.

Amenoch was galloping easily over the water, foam flying from their hooves. The Great Lord didn’t seem to notice any of them, their ears only pricking when Maotelus let out a roar.

They slowed then, prancing slightly before dropping into a bow. The move gave those on shore a glimpse of Amenoch’s rider, who slipped off their back and came to stand on the river as easily as the Great Lord did.

Alisha stared, watching as the person pushed back their bangs, a familiar enough motion that it sent her heart pounding.

Mikleo had done that after he had finished with something difficult, like he was finally releasing all of the tension he had stored up. And the way he stood was like Mikleo, and he was wearing the strange clothes that Alisha had last seen her brother in. It was only the hair that was different, white instead of sandy brown, but that was barely enough to worry about, not when Mikleo was looking over towards the bank.

His gaze landed on someone else on the shore, lingering on them for a long moment before he jerked his gaze away and met hers.

Mikleo hesitated for a moment, his boots sinking further into the water before he caught himself. He stumbled a bit to get to the surface, but then he was running across the water, reaching out for her just like she reached out for him.

Alisha caught her brother’s hands, surprised by how cold they were, but then she was hauling him up and into her arms and it didn’t matter. She held him close, squeezing him tight as she repeated his name over and over.

She thought she heard him muffle a sob against her shoulder, but then he was holding her close and practically laughing as he spoke. “I’m here. I’m here.”

Alisha nodded, running her hands down his back anyway. He seemed whole and in one piece, which was all that should have mattered. But that didn’t stop her from shaking her hand and pulling back just far enough so she could see his face. “Where did you go?”

“Amenoch took me to Ladylake.” Alisha sucked in a quick breath, her eyes widening when Mikleo reached up to cup her cheeks. “Alisha, the city is fine. I didn’t let them flood it.”

“You…you saved it?”

“Of course. It’s our home.” Mikleo looked faintly insulted by her question, which made Alisha want to scream at him that everyone had thought that he had died, but the words wouldn’t come.

Mikleo was alive in front of her. Changed, yes, but alive and she would take it. Her kingdom was still standing because her brother had saved it again.

She sniffed, trying to speak through her tears. “I think I saved things here. I let them tear down the temple.”

Mikleo stared at her with wide eyes. “But…the treaty…”

“We can redo it. We can make a new one. It doesn’t matter.” A building didn’t matter when it came to her brother being alive and well. Alisha pulled him close, holding him tight. “You’re back.”

She thought he heard him wheeze, but she didn’t let up. He was solid in her arms, and warming slightly now that he was there.

He remained tensed for a moment longer before huffing and wrapping his arms around her again. “I am.”

“Don’t you dare leave again.”

That got another wet laugh, Mikleo shaking his head. His fingers dug into her back, ten points that told her that this was real, all of it was real, and her world wasn’t as broken as she had thought. She returned with her own pressure, wanting to hear something else from him. “You hear me? Not again.”

“Of course not.” Mikleo sounded almost offended at the demand, which was more like her brother. She relaxed in his hold, at the reminder that everything was alright, that things were normal. He pressed his forehead against her shoulder, just like he had when he was younger. “I’m not going to do that again. I promise.”

“Good. Good.” There was more to say, more to ask, like what had happened when Amenoch took him, what had happened to his hair, why he was so cold. But that could all wait until she had gotten her fill of this, being able to hold her brother and feel her world start to piece together again.

After all, they had the long trip back to Ladylake to talk.

* * *

Mikleo watched as Lailah got spun around the fire, passing from one partner to another before smacking into where Eizen was standing at the sidelines. She laughed, the sound bright over the crackling fire before she pulled him into dance. Mikleo lost sight of them in the crush, sure that he would be able to catch sight of her if he just leaned out, but he doubted that he would be able to. Alisha was holding onto his arm too tightly.

He turned to look at her as she reached up to pet his hair. He raised an eyebrow, watching as she played with a strand, focusing on where it shaded from white into blue. He sighed, reaching out to pat his shoulder. “You like it?”

“It suits you, looks more like water.” She paused, letting her fingers drop away. “Is it permanent?”

Mikleo wanted to drop his gaze away, because the answer was one that he thought she wouldn’t like. “Yes. Nothing about this is reversable.”

He watched as Alisha pressed her lips together. His sister’s fingers twitched, Alisha looking like she was ready to reach out for him, or draw away. He couldn’t tell, and it looked like Alisha wasn’t sure about it as well. She finally tucked her hands into her lap. “But nothing else?”

He was sure the lack of heartbeat or breathing was sure to count in some way, but that didn’t stop him from being there. He was alive in a different way, more magic than human now. But he was alive, and that was enough.

Mikleo smiled and shook his head. “Nothing else…although I might have a better chance at winning in our water fights.”

That got a laugh out of her, Alisha shaking her head. “I don’t think I’ll have the time for many of them.”

“I’ll make sure you make time.”

“I don’t know if I should be thankful or scared.”

“Depends on how you feel about the council room being flooded.”

Alisha groaned. “Why couldn’t you have made that offer when father’s council was still sitting?”

Mikleo shrugged, relieved to hear something more lighthearted in her tone. It wasn’t full recovery, but it was something enough like his sister.

Then again, he was sure that Alisha was feeling the same.

He closed his eyes and leaned into her, just listening to the sound of the laughter around him. It was good to hear it after nothing but the lapping of water and the rhythm of Amenoch.

He opened his eyes and looked over to the glimmer of the river. It was running normally, except that Mikleo could hear it calling now, stronger. It was nothing like the voice from before. Then again, that had been Amenoch, screaming for him with every ounce of their aching and broken soul. The river had a gentler voice, a reminder that Mikleo was a part of it now, a reminder of another home that he had. Here, Ladylake, and with the water wherever it went.

Mikleo turned his gaze away, skipping over the dark corner of the gathering, the temporary shelter where the bones of the past Shepherds from the temple were resting, along with his uncle’s bones. They would be taken back to their respective temples to be buried with the rest of the priests. Mikleo was sure that his uncle would go to Maotelus’ temple. Michael might not have been a priest, but he had been close to the Great Lord. It was an honor.

He found himself looking for the silver glint of Maotelus in the party. The dragon wouldn’t be too hard to find, he was large and more inclined to mingle with humans than the other Great Lords. They had disappeared as soon as the bones had been laid out. Even Musiphe had ceased to be a salamander on Lailah’s shoulder. But maybe that was out of relief. None of them were bound any longer, they had the whole world. Mikleo knew the feeling.

Mikleo swallowed and looked back at his sister, giving her shoulder a squeeze before standing up. “I’m going to find some quiet.”

He hated the way Alisha looked at him with a flash of fear. He leaned into the hand he had on her shoulder. “Not forever, just for a bit.”

He squeezed Alisha’s shoulder again. “Alisha…”

“It’s fine.” Her voice was tight, Alisha curling into herself for a moment before sitting up. She smiled at him, the expression fragile, but she was squaring her shoulders like she was facing a challenge. “I was going to have to find Rose eventually. She has a habit of hiding at these things. One day, she’ll have to put in an appearance for more than five minutes.”

“Work her up to it.”

“The goal is seven at the moment.” Alisha stood up, stretching her arms over her head. “We’re going slow.”

“Good luck.”

Alisha hesitated a bit too long before giving him a wave and trudging off. She still looked back over her shoulder every few strides, like she expected him to disappear.

Mikleo remained in her line of sight until she was swallowed by the rest of the crowd. Mikleo wasn’t sure if he lingered for her, or to help quell some of the worry in himself. He supposed that it didn’t matter, because it calmed him as well.

He gave himself a little shake before turning on his heel and walking further into Camlann. The light and music faded out over his shoulder, Mikleo slowing to give his vision time to adjust.

There weren’t too many people in the rest of Camlann, the houses dark shadows in the night. Sometimes he saw a glimpse of a shadow moving back to the fire, mostly from the building that was set back from the river.

He slowed at the glint of armor in the darkness, Mikleo staring into the makeshift shrine. It was too dark to make out where the four sets of bones were laid out, but he could see the people kneeling in there, as well as the halberds that had been placed outside. The thought he saw a flash of auburn hair, which surprised him. He hadn’t thought that the soldiers from Ladylake would come to pay their regards, but they had been stuck in Elysia for seventeen years. They had connections here, probably more than he did since he had only lived in Elysia for ten years. They were just a little bit like him, belonging to two places.

Mikleo sighed and turned away, searching for any sign of silver.

The idea of silver haunted him, the silver dragon that he had picked up almost as soon as they had passed the barrier. The silver ghost that had appeared the night he had woken the Great Lords.

The man who had been standing by Maotelus when he had returned.

His search took him to the far end of Camlann, where it curved away from the river and back towards the mountain and the trail up to the old temple there. From there, it was a long climb up to the top of the mountain where it was said the first Shepherds made contact with the Great Lords. He and Sorey might not have ever made it to the top, but they had spent hours in the old temple, just exploring.

He smiled at the memory, staring at the road for a moment more before looking away.

The rest of Camlann was a gently curve around where the Ladylake temple had been before ending at the forest. Mikleo took a deep breath, preparing for the long walk when he saw a flicker of silver out of the corner of his eye.

He turned to look, a shiver running down his spine at the sight of the silver dragon. Maotelus wasn’t as large as he could be, the Great Lord had shrunk himself down to be able to fit on the balcony. The dragon had his head tilted down to speak to the man by his side, the silver glow from his scales lighting up the man’s face.

It was vaguely familiar, like someone he should have known. Like the silver man who had appeared at Ladylake.

“Sorey.”

Mikleo thought he had spoken quietly enough and that he was far enough away that no one could have heard him, but the man immediately looked towards him, the dragon slower to glance at him. Mikleo swallowed, knowing that he was supposed to bow or greet the Great Lord as he moved away, but he couldn’t take his gaze away from Sorey.

He knew it was him, just like he knew exactly where the river was, where Amenoch was the strongest. Sorey had been his first pole, pulling him onward.

Mikleo wasn’t aware that he was running until his foot was on the bottom step. By then, it was too late, not that Mikleo wanted to stop. Sorey was right there with his arms open, and Mikleo could do nothing else but throw himself into them.

He heard Sorey grunt, the two of them teetering for a moment before falling over backwards.

He landed on top of Sorey, hard, but Sorey didn’t let go of him, which meant that he was stuck there. Mikleo pushed himself up slightly, not going further than his elbows. To move away any more was unthinkable, not when he could feel the pounding of Sorey’s heart through him.

Mikleo frowned and lifted his hand to rest over it. “It’s fast.”

“Well,” Sorey shrugged, anything else that could be said lost in his smile.

Mikleo couldn’t help but smile back, patting at Sorey’s shoulder and arm. He didn’t know what he should be doing, but this felt right, better than standing at a distance and trying to work through seventeen years of silence.

He sighed, shifting to try and rest his weight more evenly, because he had no intention of getting up. Sorey seemed to be in agreement, because his hand settled on Mikleo’s waist, holding him there.

“It’s good to see you again.”

Mikleo nodded, reaching up to cup Sorey’s cheek. “You too. I thought you were dead.”

“So, did I…in the temple.” Sorey took a deep breath, Mikleo feeling it shake through him as Sorey let it out. “I…I didn’t I didn’t know if you had gotten that amulet off.”

His voice cracked on the last word, Sorey turning his head. Mikleo shuddered at the brush of lips against his palm in an almost kiss. He found himself leaning closer, stopping short of brushing his lips across Sorey’s cheek. “No, I managed it. Amenoch helped. They didn’t want to lose another Shepherd.”

“Good. I wasn’t ready to lose you either.”

Mikleo shook his head, pulling his hand away. “Easy for you to say. You didn’t wake up to the news that your best friend had probably _burned_.” He swallowed back the urge to shake Sorey, because that would mean shifting and letting go. And because he didn’t want Sorey to stop smiling at him like that. “I thought that for seventeen years. I lost you for seventeen years and I got nothing.”

“I tried! It was hard after I armatized with Maotelus, and after we slept. It was the only way to stop the Great Lords from trying to destroy the world.” Sorey shifted like he was going to rub the back of his neck, but thought better of it. Instead, he just dropped his other hand to Mikleo’s waist, squeezing there. “I tried to reach out to you, but you never heard me. Not even when I was riding on your shoulder.”

“How was I supposed to know?!”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that you were alive? And a seraph?”

“I swore to Amenoch, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but I didn’t know what had happened. We got there too late. All I could feel was Amenoch’s rage and knowing what it meant.” Sorey tugged him close, Mikleo’s eyes going wide as their bodies moved against each other.

It was nothing new really, they had always held each other close. But he had forgotten, because seventeen years had been a long time. That and Sorey was different, grown up in a way that Mikleo didn’t know what to do with, because he had last seen Sorey when he was ten, still with round cheeks and stubby legs. He was grown now, a sturdy, broad shouldered man, and Mikleo had missed all of it.

He frowned and reached up to comb his fingers through Sorey’s hair, not surprised that it was a mess. Armatization with a Great Lord wouldn’t have stopped Sorey’s hair from doing this, and that was at least a comfort. Sorey might have grown, his green eyes might be shot through with silver, but these things that he remembered so well hadn’t changed.

Something in him settled, like he was walking into his room in the castle after a long day. It was a homecoming that he wasn’t quite aware that he had missed for so long.

Mikleo stroked his hand through Sorey’s hair a few more times before settling his forehead against Sorey’s. He heard Sorey chuckle, the two of them settling down. Mikleo listened to Sorey’s breath, finding himself falling into the rhythm of it. It felt good to breathe again, to be connected to Sorey again.

“I missed you, so much.”

“Me too.” Sorey moved to brush their noses together. “I dreamed of you, in our sleep. They might have been what you were actually doing but, they were good dreams. It was like nothing had changed…although you didn’t know I was there. Were you-”

“It was good, mostly.”

“I wanted to be there.” Sorey’s gaze flicked away for a moment before finding his again. “I really did. Sometimes I could trick myself into thinking that I was there and I could just reach out…”

He squeezed Mikleo’s waist again, making him lose the pattern of his breathing and shake. He swallowed hard, trying to reclaim his sense of balance, but it was gone, shoved away by the earnestness in Sorey’s eyes and all of the could-have-been’s.

He had to swallow to right himself, although his voice shook more than he wanted it to. “We have time now. The spirits have calmed. The barrier is gone. You don’t have to sleep anymore.”

Sorey blinked up at him before sitting up, Mikleo going with him. He had to fling his arms around Sorey’s shoulders to keep from sliding off. It was nice like this, so close to Sorey, nice enough for Mikleo to almost forget what they had been talking about until Sorey managed to get over his shock.

“But…you’re a seraph.”

Mikleo frowned, lifting his chin slightly. “So?”

“Amenoch will need you.”

“Amenoch is wherever the water is. It’s not like they need me at the shrine all the time. I refuse to believe that there is no other priest in Elysia.” Mikleo held his annoyance for a moment longer before shaking his head and reaching up to play with the short hairs on the back of Sorey’s neck. “But it’s not as easy as it was when they were kids. I can’t be here all the time; I have duties in Ladylake too.”

“Oh.”

Mikleo’s stomach lurched with all the word could mean. He knew what being a seraph meant, at least vaguely. He was less a Shepherd, less needed in place. As it was, there would be a new Shepherd to take the place he had left behind as soon as Amenoch was ready for one. He was freed in a way, but Sorey was still alive, and still a Shepherd if he had been able to armatize with Maotelus. Shepherds had duties to their Great Lords that came first.

He reached out to touch Sorey’s hair, trying to tame the errant strands. He got distracted by the feathers that hung from Sorey’s ears. Everything might have changed with time, but this was the same, and soothing.

He reached out to brush his fingers over one of them, watching it sway, bright orange against Sorey’s hair. “I guess you have duties here too, with Maotelus.”

“Well…” Sorey drew out the word before his smile flickered and died. “I guess so. I hadn’t thought about it. Before we were mostly…asleep.”

Mikleo sighed, dropping his hand to Sorey’s shoulder. “I…I don’t think I have to be in Ladylake all the time but…”

“You’re a prince. I understand.” Sorey’s smile came back, but it was the fragile one that meant that he was anything but happy. “Ladylake needs you.”

“Not _that_ much.” Mikleo pouted, digging his fingers into Sorey’s shoulder. “I’m only second in line to the throne.”

“Still a prince. Your father wanted you to come back to Ladylake, all that time ago.”

“And I didn’t want to because my home is here.” Mikleo took a deep breath, feeling guilty a moment later. “It was here.”

“Where is it now?”

“Both.” He dropped his hands from Sorey’s shoulder, his gaze moving to Sorey’s chest. It was easier this way, except that he wasn’t getting off of Sorey’s lap, because he didn’t want to. “I think it’s both but…”

Mikleo huffed, hated the way that he was getting tongue tied. He shifted so he could look back over his shoulder at the bonfire, feeling Sorey adjust so he was holding him steady. Mikleo reached down to rest one hand on Sorey’s. He stared out past the bonfire into the night and the star-flecked sky. “The barrier is down, and the spirits are appeased. Alisha is the queen, and she’s going to get married.”

“That’s nice.”

There was a bit of hesitation in Sorey’s voice that meant he didn’t understand. Mikleo wasn’t sure he quite understood where he was going himself, but he could see a direction, like a glimmer of a bonfire.

He brushed his fingers over the back of Sorey’s hand. “I have to help reassure Ladylake that everything is fine, and set in place a new treaty. And Alisha would never forgive me if I missed her wedding. But after…”

He turned back around. “Remember when we said we would travel the world?”

Sorey’s eyes went wide, Mikleo sure that he saw the silver in them sparkle as Sorey’s thoughts dropped into step with his. “Elysia would send a representative of the Great Lords for both of those. And, I’ve always wanted to see Ladylake.”

Mikleo’s stomach twisted when Sorey’s voice dropped slightly. He just barely stopped himself from jerking forward, but that was only because he braced himself against Sorey’s shoulders again. He sucked in a breath, distantly aware of the action. “Come with me, when we go back. I’ll show you around.

“I’d like that.”

One of Sorey’s hands slid up to cup the back of his head, the drag of Sorey’s fingers up his back making him arch. Mikleo didn’t think it was impossible to feel like he was on fire when he was mostly water magic now, but a touch from Sorey was enough. He found himself mirroring the motion, sinking his fingers into Sorey’s hair.

He stopped there, staring down at Sorey with wide eyes. He could feel where this was going, Sorey was the moon and pulling him in.

Then again, he had always known where this was going. It was as inevitable as him becoming a Shepherd for Amenoch, or him eventually having to go to Ladylake. It had come with a pause, but Sorey was always there. Which meant that there was nothing to be afraid of.

Mikleo tipped his head to the side, basking in the soft look that he was being given. He stroked his fingers through Sorey’s hair a few times, aware that he was drifting closer.

He didn’t know which one of them close the distance, and it didn’t matter. What mattered was the press of Sorey’s lips against him, the soft huff of Sorey’s breath against his cheek, the beat of Sorey’s heart against his chest. What mattered was the warmth and closeness. What mattered was the sense of his world righting again, because this was inevitable. It was right.

It felt like coming home.


	4. Steel in the Moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck it, xianxia AU. It’s not strictly MDZS, but heavily influenced by it. I am keeping game names for monsters instead of the usual xianxia names and the Arthurian lean to the names, just because of the game itself. Written for the prompt Third Quarter: Awareness.

Sorey went still at the tremble of something across his senses. He tipped his head to the side, trying to parse it out. It was hard considering everything that was going on. Rayfalke was rumored to be filled with all kinds of hellions, curses, and all sorts of things that would send normal people scurrying away as fast as they could. Sorey had passed a few of them on his way in, all of them eager to talk to him once they had noticed Clarent hanging at his side. He was sure that more than half of what they had told him were exaggerated rumor, but there was always some kind of kernel of truth if he looked hard enough.

Currently, looking hard is what he was doing. Sorey took a few more steps through the forest, flinching when he stepped on a stick. There was a loud snap, Sorey freezing and holding his breath.

He thought he heard something rush past, but it was there and gone before he had the chance to really see what it was.

There was every chance that it was just another cultivator, rogue like him or associated with one of the sects.

There was every chance that there wasn’t.

Sorey swallowed and reached down to rest his hand on Clarent, the faint thrum of the sword enough to steady him.

He remained where he was before inching forward again, trying to blend into the shadows as much as possible. He wanted to get a better lay of the land. If he wanted to know where the hellions would be hiding, he needed a view of that. And he wanted to make sure that the rumors of the dragon at the top of the mountain were false. Benevolent creature or territorial, Sorey didn’t want a dragon barreling down on him. They might be heavenly creatures, but they were large, and Sorey had gotten knocked around enough by friendly but large creatures to know what they would do.

A shout echoed to the right, Sorey tipped his head towards the sound of the crashing and cursing. It didn’t sound like something that needed his attention yet, it just sounded like someone tripping down the mountain. Sorey looked ruefully at the ground. It was uneven and the path was overgrown with disuse.

That had been him on the last night hunt he had been on. He had ended up dangling partially off a cliff as he tried to haul someone back up whose talisman backfire had sent them flying.

There was a final loud thud and “FUCK!” before a person emerged from the bushes. Sorey gave the cultivator a nod, watching as they glanced away before limping off. Sorey didn’t watch them go, not wanting to further their embarrassment. It was one thing to be beaten by hellions and spirits, another to be beaten by a mountain.

Sorey slid through the brush, dropping into a partial crouch as he moved. Now that there wasn’t a cultivator falling down the mountain, he could concentrate on the rest of the sounds that were filtering in and the general feeling of the place.

It wasn’t anything beyond many of the forest he had tramped through, a vague foreboding as his line of sight was restricted. He was used to mountain forests and how to move through them, but he was usually coming the opposite way. He was the one at the top of the mountain working his way down.

He tightened his hold on Clarent, pausing as he sensed something moving close by. He stared into the darkness of the forest, calming his racing heart. Sorey was never sure if it was fear or excitement, but it only grabbed hold of him at the last moment before he had to react.

There was movement in the shadows, Sorey seeing the hunched shoulders of something far too big to be a wolf. They moved slowly before coming to a halt, that putting Sorey on his toes. He pulled Clarent free slightly, watching for the moment when it would leap.

The hellion moved quickly, Sorey already darting to the side and pulling his sword free enough that he could sent Clarent flying, but he was too slow.

There was a flicker of another presence and then three arrows shooting through the night, alight with spiritual energy and glowing blue. They allowed him to catch a glimpse the wolf, Sorey seeing the fangs and tusks on the beast before the arrows struck it in the eye, head and chest.

The wolf howled and kept charging, although this time it was blindly. It managed to get to the next group of trees before slumping against them, dead.

Sorey watched the wolf for a long moment before nudging Clarent back in place. He stepped around a cluster of bushes so he could look up into the trees. “Did I line it up well?”

He heard a snort from the trees. Sorey took a prudent step back as Mikleo dropped out of one.

Mikleo landed in a crouch, glancing back at the hellion before standing up. He looped his bow over his shoulder and brushed off his robes. It was only when he was done that he gave Sorey a stern look. Sorey just grinned back, too used to the welcome to do anything about it.

Mikleo’s annoyance only lasted for a moment before he sighed and walked over to start brushing Sorey off. “If you were looking to play bait, you could have warned me.”

“I wasn’t expecting you.” Sorey reached out to gently pick a leaf out of Mikleo’s hair. He held it up for a moment before letting it drift away. “I thought you were busy with your project on the other side of town.”

Mikleo rolled his eyes. “Barely a project.”

“I should have waited then.”

“Yes, but it worked out.” Mikleo threw a look over his shoulder at the wolf. “You would have been crushed.”

Sorey pouted. “I had it under control.”

“You were going to let it charge you.”

“It’s better than me charging it.”

“And then what, you would bleed your way up the mountain and then back into town.”

“No.” Sorey dragged the word out, flicking his gaze over to Mikleo before grinning. “I would have just gone until I found you.”

Mikleo huffed, but the sound was fond. He reached out like he was going to grab onto Sorey’s sleeve, but a shout from somewhere else in the forest made him stop.

Mikleo reached back to touch his bow, running his fingers along the front of it. “What did they say?”

“The usual mix of rumor and actual events. Mostly it’s reports of hellions.” There was a scream, the long drawn out kind that didn’t mean good things. Sorey grabbed at Clarent, leaning forward. “Oh, and a dragon.”

“Just a dragon.” He didn’t need to look back to know that Mikleo was rolling his eyes. “Any other just’s we should be looking for.”

“I’ll let you know when I see them.” Sorey glanced up and down the mountain before reaching back to grab Mikleo’s arm. His fingers slid over skin before he found Mikleo’s hand. It was second nature to twine their fingers together, Mikleo holding on tight at another scream.

“Sorey.”

“I know, we’re going.”

He took off in the direction of the screaming, one hand working to loosen Clarent. He didn’t know what they were running towards, but it was better to be prepared. And, it would take Mikleo a moment to have his bow ready to go.

Sorey squeezed Mikleo’s hand, not sure if it was to reassure himself or Mikleo, either way it didn’t matter. There was something relaxing about charging into some sort of danger with Mikleo by his side, enough so that Sorey had to hold back a laugh. He was sure that Mikleo wouldn’t appreciate it, but he would understand.

After all, it was just the two of them wandering the world, night hunting together and Sorey couldn’t imagine anything better.


	5. The Trial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you wanna do a Game of Thrones AU, so here I go. Just as a note, I’m using the general ideas in their most basic form and then running away with my own ideas. Secondly, I am using terms from the series, but I’m ignoring the gendered terms kind of? Mostly I’m saying they refer to all genders and it’s just context in the language. Written for the prompt Pollux: Brave.

Sorey pulled his horse up, aware that the animal was not pleased to be so close to the Poison Water. It had been restive since they had come down to the sand and away from the familiar plains of the Dothraki Sea. But this one had been the only one out of the string that he had brought that had been willing to come down so far.

He twisted around in the saddle to look back at where the tall grass ended and the dunes began. Sorey spent a moment turning the strange word over in his mouth, one learned from Mikleo in his Westrosi. He traced over the loose hump of sand before looking up at where his string of horses and _dothrakhqoyi_ waited.

They had followed him out of the Dothraki Sea, confident in his ability. After all, he had earned their loyalty, or else neither Lailah or Edna would have pledged to him.

As those touched by the elements that ruled their world, their loyalty had to be earned through feats of bravery or tests that they had put forward for him. Only by passing their tests would he retain his place as future _khal_. His mother may be _khal_ now, but that didn’t guarantee that he would follow her. Many of her _kos_ had passed the challenges of earth and fire like he had, and had the _dothrakhqoyi_ sworn to them to prove it. There were a few more, like his cousin and Rose, who had managed the notoriously difficult wind test. It was far easier to find people who had been touched by fire and earth than wind. Three elements were always more impressive than two.

Four had been unheard of for generations. After all, their home on the steppe didn’t lend itself to the kind of water that would lead to those being properly chosen by the element. Save for a rare flash flood, most Dothraki lived their lives without much prolonged contact with water in a way that would make them eligible to issue a challenge and become a _dothrakhqoyi_.

And then they had made a rare trip to one of the _khalasar_ who skirted the edge of their sea for a marriage, and found two Westrosi children, washed up on shore and barely alive.

It had been a sign, a rare blessing even for the horror of all that it implied for a Dothraki. To travel the sea, the water that no horse could cross on their own or drink, was one thing. But to survive when their wooden horses were destroyed clearly meant that they were chosen.

His gaze darted back to the shore where Mikleo was checking over one of them now. Mikleo had seemed sure enough when he had been bargaining for its use, and Sorey had trusted him. Apparently, just the sight of the ocean was enough to have him doubting that judgement.

The horse snorted and sidled, picking up on his nervousness. It would be so easy to let it spin and gallop back to the others, and Sorey was sure that Mikleo wouldn’t be insulted. He knew that the Dothraki feared the ocean, he knew this was asking much.

But he also knew that Malfore, with his three _dothrakhqoyi_ and many feathers in his braid, looked far better to the _khalasar_ than Sorey, even if Sorey was Khal Selene’s son and raised to the role. It was tradition, and it ensured that the next _khal_ had the blessings of the spirits that controlled their lives.

Sorey chewed on his lip for a moment, weighing his fear against his curiosity and, more importantly, what it would mean for his _khalasar_.

With that considered, it was easy to slide off of his horse and send it back to Lailah and Edna with a slap. The horse went eagerly, Sorey watching it canter up through the sand.

Edna was the one to reach out for it and grab its reins, holding it steady as it tried to barge further into the string of horses waiting. The horse snorted its displeasure and fretted, bumping against Edna’s horse and shoving the two of them into their witness.

Sorey didn’t know the woman personally, but that was the point. She was there to watch and carry the word back to all of the tribes that the son of Khal Selene had gained another _dothrakhqoyi_ and, even more impressively, he had done it on the poison water.

In hindsight, maybe that was why his mother had picked up Alisha and Mikleo when they had been found, arguing over all the other _khals_. After all, anyone who had survived the ocean had to be lucky, and that kind of luck could carry. But maybe she had foreseen this, a chance that someone from her _khalasar_ would get the honor of facing a challenge set by one who had been touched by water.

He turned away, purposefully making his way down to where Mikleo was waiting. Sorey was sure that he should have been focusing on Mikleo, listening for the terms of his challenge, but his gaze kept darting back to way that the water was lapping at the shore. From the way Mikleo ignored it, it had to be normal, but Sorey couldn’t shake the urge that it was getting closer with every wave. Soon it might get high enough to consume them all, and turn the Dothraki Sea into a sea of water.

Sorey swallowed and fixed his gaze on Mikleo, watching as the Westori waited patiently for him, one hand on the boat. Mikleo was looking back to the west, staring like he could see something approaching, or he was hoping that something would appear.

That more than anything got him to step towards the boat, Sorey reaching out to rest his hand on Mikleo’s arm. “Mikleo?”

Mikleo seemed to come back to himself in stages, giving himself a shake before looking over his shoulder at Sorey with a smile. “You ready?”

Sorey sucked in a deep breath, glancing back at the sea before quickly scrambling into the boat. He thought he heard Mikleo laugh, but he was too busy adjusting to the way the water made the boat rock. It was almost like a horse, but there was predictability to a horse. That and the whole world didn’t seem to shake when he was on a horse. Fixing his gaze to Mikleo seemed to be the best option, Sorey staring at him with what he hoped was a look of determination and not desperation. “Issue your challenge.”

Mikleo huffed before throwing the rope to him. At a loss, Sorey caught it and held it. He was glad that he did, because a moment later the boat lurched as Mikleo started pushing at it.

Sorey expected it to catch, or for the land to grip it jealously, not to let it go so easily. Sorey clutched at the rope as the pitch of the boat got more exaggerated, Sorey feeling like he was about going to be thrown forward with every wave.

He wasn’t left alone in the boat for long, Mikleo giving it one last shove before hopping in and settling himself in the middle. He gave Sorey a quick glance before reaching for the oars and starting to row them out.

Sorey swallowed back a squeak, just clutching at the rope as Mikleo took them further out. It was better to hold and stare at it than desperately back at the shore like he expected the witness or his _dothrakhqoyi_ to come and save him. Both would invalidate the challenge, and failure like that was worse than an honest failure. At least that was earned through an effort, an attempt, instead of his own fear getting the better of him. Besides, Sorey was sure that Edna was enjoying this.

He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. It didn’t help, so he kept his eyes closed as he spoke. “The challenge?”

“Hm?” Mikleo let the question sit between them for a moment before he laughed. “Oh, we’re going to get out beyond the breakers and then I plan to hold out there.”

“Out where?”

Sorey opened one eye, slowly twisting to look at where Mikleo pointed.

The ocean was a single moving mass with foam like the mane of his mother’s favorite horse. But there was a place where it was calmer, but that looked to be miles away. Sorey gulped and fixed his gaze on Mikleo again.

If Mikleo noticed his fear, he didn’t comment on it, instead rowing steadily. “If you’re up to it by then, you can do something really impressive and dip an arm in or even go all the way in.”

“How deep?”

“I don’t know.” Mikleo shrugged. “It’s hard to tell without the right tools. But definitely over your head. You would hold onto the boat though, so you wouldn’t drift off.”

“You hate me.”

“You wanted impressive.” Mikleo leaned forward with a grin that Sorey would have expected on Edna. “This is as impressive as I can think of. Out on the poison water on a wooden horse, and then getting in it and returning alive. Your witness back there won’t be able to talk of anything else for weeks.”

Sorey glanced back at the others, noticing how Lailah and Edna had come closer to the shore. But his witness was hanging back. They were still close enough that he could see the awe and fear on her face, and that was striking. That was what he wanted, something that would be remembered.

He looked back at Mikleo, meeting and holding his gaze. The insult would be to make sure that Mikleo wouldn’t let anything happen to him. He knew Mikleo wouldn’t let him fail, he was closer than any _dothrakhqoyi_ that Sorey could have sworn to him, closer than blood of his blood.

Sorey managed a nod, shifting on the uncomfortable bench of the boat. Cautiously, he stroked the side of the boat, aware that it wouldn’t respond like a horse, but it was what he had always done when his horse was fractious, and it calmed him. “W-where did you learn this? Rose?”

If Mikleo noticed the way his voice shook, he didn’t comment on it. He kept rowing, his gaze fixing to somewhere to the west again. “No. She only leant us the boat. I learned when I was little. I was born on an island.” Mikleo paused for a moment before shaking his head. “It’s a small piece of land surrounded by the ocean.”

Sorey shuddered. It sounded horrible, to be able to hear the ocean at all times and know that it was just there, waiting. That wasn’t the point, nor was it something that he could say to Mikleo, not when he was in this mood. Like this, it meant that it was missing his far away home.

Instead, he leaned forward to rest his free hand on Mikleo’s knee, staring into the man’s purple eyes. That was enough to draw Mikleo’s gaze back to him. When he was sure that Mikleo was back in him, he smiled encouragingly. “King’s Landing, right? It’s an island.”

“No.” Mikleo grunted as he took a hard pull at the oars. “But I was born on Dragonstone. That’s the island just to the north-ish of Kings Landing. It was my mother’s.”

Sorey held his tongue on the next question, because he was sure it would be another partial answer that would end up derailing the conversation from what he wanted to find out. After all, whether Mikleo’s mother had owned the castle or the island itself didn’t matter, although the latter always baffled him in the same vague way that the rest of the world owning a piece of land did. What mattered were the few little tendrils of a story that he could draw out of Mikleo. Anything he learned would be tucked away for later, a record of the man that he loved.

Mikleo was silent for a few more moments before he sighed. “We would go when sickness came to Kings Landing, and stay until it was gone. So, we weren’t there often. Maybe that’s why they forgot about us for so long…”

This silence was different than the one before. This was a silence that meant that Mikleo was lost to memories of fire and a war that had torn his family apart and had sent him and Alisha fleeing for their lives, and then almost losing them in the ocean. Truly, the elemental spirits had blessed him, but Sorey was sure that the Dothraki were the only ones who saw it that way.

He shifted to gently cup Mikleo’s cheek, rubbing his thumb against Mikleo’s skin. “I’m sorry that they are gone, but I’m glad that you are here, moon of my life.”

Mikleo closed his eyes and slumped into the touch, Sorey watching him.

Yes, there was luck involved, but Sorey was sure that it was all on the side of the _khalasar_. They were the ones who had found the two of them, which meant Mikleo had come to him. It was something that he should be more grateful for, because the ocean had given him everything despite his people’s distaste for it.

Sorey glanced over at the water. It was still choppy, but getting closer to where Mikleo had said that he would be safer. And he trusted Mikleo, just as he trusted himself.

He reached back for his knife, fumbling at it for a moment before holding it out. Mikleo glanced down at it before shaking his head. “Later, when we get back to shore. The water will make it sting.”

Sorey threw a wary glance at the water before knocking their knees together. “It’s all symbolic anyway. You have been blood of my blood since we found you.”

Mikleo blushed, although he quickly ducked his head into the rowing. Sorey smiled to himself, letting Mikleo have his moment. It was a shame that he recovered quickly, Mikleo tossing his head back, his braid knocking against his shoulder before sliding down. “You would say that, damn romantic.”

“It’s true. We didn’t need a knife for it before.”

“What you seem to be aiming for seems to be a bit more than _dothrakhqoyi_.” Mikleo gave him a sidelong glance. “I thought you were going to wait.”

Sorey shrugged. “We’re of age.”

“And Zaveid hasn’t been seen for months.”

“That too.” Sorey sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Zaveid was generally hard to track down, a wanderer even in a group of wanderers. His best chance would be to find Eizen and ask where the man had been last. That would be something, to return back to the _khalasar_ with two more _dothrakhqoyi_ to have the complete four and the first steps of courtship underway. It would be something to be celebrated, proof of the way he handled things.

But that could be considered later, once he had met Mikleo’s challenge.

Sorey peered over the edge of the boat again, aware that Mikleo was pulling the oars in. The ocean was not calm, but it wasn’t as violent, but it was still in motion. Sorey couldn’t imagine how it could be constantly in motion when the earth was so still.

Cautiously he reached out to dip his fingers in the water, spreading them out. Technically, that would be enough to fulfill Mikleo’s challenge.

Sorey looked back at the shore to where the three women were waiting for him. This was impressive, but there could be something that stories were told about.

He looked over at Mikleo before offering his hand. “Help me down?”

Mikleo raised an eyebrow before shifting closer and taking Sorey’s hand. “I won’t let you go.”

“I know.”

“You’d end up on the beach anyway.”

“But you’ll be there.”

Mikleo snorted. “Where else would I be?”

That was answer enough for him, that the far-off land of Westros that and burned and chased him out didn’t have all of Mikleo, that he wanted to be here. It gave him the courage to swing his legs over the side and drop into the water, holding tight to Mikleo’s hand.


End file.
